THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

Rare  Book  Room 
GIFT  OF 

John  W.  Beckman 


"  Master  Clarence,  lour  feet  ten  in  his  morocco  pumps." 

PiliTO  5. 


TRUE  MANLINESS; 


OE, 


THE  LANDSCAPE  GARDENER, 


for     oTS  mrtr  <$i 


BY    MRS.    L.    C.    TUTHILL. 


"Conquer  difficulties 
By  daring  to  attempt  them." 


BOSTON: 

CROSBY    AND    AINS  WORTH. 
NEW  YORK:  OLIVER  S.  FELT. 

1867. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  18(56,  by 

CROSBY    AND    AINSWORTH, 
In  the  Clerk's  Oflice  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


ELECTROTYPES    AT    THE 

BOSTON     STEREOTYPE     FOUNDRY, 

4   SPRING   LANE. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    LITTLE  WAINBOW.  . 5 

II.    GOING,  GOING 9 

III.  GONE! 13 

IV.  THE  "  COOL." 20 

V.    ROLLING  THE  K 27 

VI.    HARVEY  AMADORE 29 

VII.    MISCHIEF  BREWING 34 

VIII.    THE  BLACK  BEAR 41 

IX.    REPROOF 48 

X.    MORE  MISCHIEF 54 

XL    A  SUDDEN  CHANGE 61 

XII.    THE  BROWN  COTTAGE 69 

XIII.  A  PLEASANT  MEETING 79 

XIV.  HARDSHIPS 88 

XV.    MERRY  CHRISTMAS. 92 

XVI.    UNWELCOME  FRIENDS 102 

XVII.    A  SHOWER  BATH no 

XVIII.    STRONG  MEN 115 

XIX.    CONQUERING  DIFFICULTIES 124 

XX.    FLITTING , 129 

(3) 


CONTENTS. 


XXI.    ALL  is  NOT  GOLD  THAT  GLITTERS 139 

XXII.    AUNT  DOTTY'S  CALL 144 

XXIII.  A  FAMILY  CONSULTATION 153 

XXIV.  CLARENCE  IN  A  QUANDARY 158 

XXV.    A  CONFESSION 175 

XXVI.    BIDDY  MEGAN 180 

XXVII.    THE  BANKER'S  HOME 185 

XXVIII.    SIGHT-SEEING 189 

XXIX.    PETE 193 

XXX.    A  VISIT  TO  THE  GARDEN 205 

XXXI.    SOMETHING  NOT  TOLD ' .  211 

XXXII.    THE  YOUNG  TRAVELLER 221 

XXXIII.  FIGHTING  FORMAN 228 

XXXIV.  NEWS  FROM  HOME 236 

XXXV.    CAPTAIN  AMADORE 239 

XXXVI.  WHO  WOULD  HAVE  THOUGHT  IT !      .   .    ,    ,        ...  253 


TRUE    MANLINESS. 


CHAPTER    I. 

LITTLE   WAINBOW. 

BENEATH  the  brilliant  light  of  a  chandelier,  sus 
pended  over  a  marble  centre-table,  sat  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Rose. 

The  bald  head  of  Mr.  Rose  shone  in  that  light, 
looking  round  and  smooth  as  an  ostrich  egg :  yet 
Mr.  Rose  was  not  an  old  man  ;  he  was  on  the  hither 
side  of  forty. 

The  rings  and  bracelets  of  Mrs.  Rose  sparkled 
with  a  lustre  very  pleasing  to  herself.  Mrs.  Rose 
was  fond  of  ornament.  She  was  embroidering  a 
neck-tie  of  crimson  satin  with  gold-colored  silk,  for 
her  darling  pet,  Clarence  Rose. 

Mr.  Rose  was  poring  over  the  evening  paper. 

But  who  comes  here?     What  a  funny  little 
son ! 


6  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

Why,  it  is  Master  Clarence.  There  he  stands, 
four  feet  ten  in  his  morocco  pumps.  Long-tailed, 
purple  coat,  plaid  pantaloons,  blue  waistcoat,  frilled 
shirt-bosom  with  turquoise  studs  —  nothing  wanting 
but  the  neck-tie  to  complete  his  elegant  toilet ! 

"  Mamma,  ith  my  tavat  done  ?"  demanded  the  boy. 

"Not  quite,  my  darling;  but  it  will  be  in  five 
minutes." 

"  Now,  thath  too  bad ;  the  pawty  beginth  at 
eight,"  said  Clarence,  looking  at  his  enamelled 
watch,  "  and  ith  theven  minute  patht  alweady." 

Mrs.  Rose  plied  her  needle  swiftly,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  the  neck-tie  was  completed. 

"Let  me  arrange  it  for  you,  dear,"  said  Mrs. 
Rose. 

"  No,  I'll  awange  it  mythelf ;  you  don't  know  the 
latht  fathonable  tie."  So  saying,  he  turned  towards 
the  large  mantel  mirror,  and  making  the  embroi 
dered  ends  stand  out  like  Louis  Napoleon's  mus 
tache,  he  exclaimed,  "  Thath  the  go ! "  and  made 
a  low  bow  to  himself. 

"I  shall  send  the  carriage  for  you  at  eleven," 
said  the  delighted,  admiring  Mrs.  Rose,  as  the  boy 
left  the  room, 

Mr.  Rose,  meantime,  ensconced  behind  the  news 
paper,  seemed  not  to  notice  what  was  going  on ; 
but  an  occasional  hem,  or  rather  more  guttural 
sound,  might  have  betrayed  to  others,  not  pre-occu- 
pied,  that  he  was  fully  aware  of  what  was  passing. 


LITTLE     WAIMBOW.  7 

As  soon  as  the  front  door  had  closed  upon  Clar 
ence,  Mr.  Rose  said,  with  a  very  decided  em 
phasis,  — 

"  That  boy  must  be  sent  to  school." 

"  Send  Clarence  to  school !  Why,  Mr.  Rose, 
you  are  not  in  earnest." 

"  Never  more  so  in  my  life,"  was  the  calm  reply. 

"  O,  husband,  that  would  be  cruel  to  him  and  to 
me,"  said  she,  with  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"  The  cruelty  would  be  in  allowing  the  boy  to 
become  a  silly,  effeminate  dandy.  Here  is  an  ad 
vertisement  stating  that  the  Rev.  Mr.  Warren  —  by 
the  way,  an  old  classmate  of  mine  at  school  —  will 
receive  four  boys  into  his  family,  to  fit  them  for 
college  or  for  mercantile  life.  He  is  settled  in  the 
village  of  Raceville,  nearly  two  hundred  miles  from 
the  city.  A  railroad  passes  by  the  village,  and  of 
course  it  is  easy  of  access.  I  don't  intend  to  send 
Clarence  to  college ;  his  defective  speech  would 
prevent  that.  I  hope  in  the  end  to  take  him  into 
my  counting-room." 

Mrs.  Rose  was  now  sobbing  violently,  with  her 
frilled  handkerchief  to  her  eyes. 

"  Now,  my  dear,  you  will  take  the  goffering  out 
of  your  laced  handkerchief.  Be  reasonable.  Clar 
ence  must  leave  home  next  Monday  morning ;  the 
term  at  Mr.  Warren's  commenced  the  first  of  Sep 
tember,  a  week  ago." 

"So  soon?     I   can't   part  with   him,  indeed   I 


8  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

can't,"  shrieked  Mrs.  Rose,  almost  going  into  hys 
terics. 

"  I  am  sorry  for  you,  Eliza,  but  your  weak  indul 
gence  would  ruin  the  boy,  if  it  has  not  already 
done  it.  I  have  set  down  my  foot,  and  there's  no 
if  nor  but  in  the  matter.  Have  him  ready  to  start 
early  on  Monday  morning.  I  will  write  to  my  old 
chum  this  very  night.  I  hope  he  will  be  able  to 
make  a  man  of  Clarence  —  weak  timber  he  will 
have  to  work  upon." 

"  He  is  not  weak  in  mind,  but  delicate  bodily ; 
he  is  small  of  his  age,"  sobbed  out  Mrs.  Rose,  hys 
terically. 

"  Let  me  see  ;  he  must  be  thirteen.  Goodness  ! 
At  his  age  I  was  clerk  in  a  hardware  store  —  a  big 
strapping  fellow  able  to  earn  my  own  living.  I'll 
go  and  write  my  letter." 

Mrs.  Rose,  knowing  that  her  husband  had  fully 
made  up  his  mind,  soon  wiped  her  eyes,  and  to  con 
sole  herself  began  to  embroider  another  neck-tie  — 
green  silk  with  a  pink  figure,  which  she  called  an 
arabesque  pattern ;  or  rather  it  was  so  termed  in 
the  fashion-plate  from  which  she  copied  the  pattern. 
She  had  nearly  completed  her  work,  when  Clarence 
came  home,  sleepy,  tired,  and  cross  as  a  bear. 

"  Come,  tell  me,  darling,  something  about  the 
party,"  said  she. 

"  I  won't.     I  want  to  go  wight  to  bed>"  snarled  he. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  haven't  had  a  pleasant  evening, 
my  dear." 


GOING,     GO/JVG. 

"  They  made  fun  of  me,  and  called  me  little 
Wainbow,"  said  Clarence  ;  and  without  further  cer 
emony  he  left  the  room,  Mrs.  Rose  calling  after 
him,  — 

"  What,  not  one  kiss,  when  I  have  sat  up  work 
ing  for  you  till  twelve  o'clock  !  " 


CHAPTER   II. 

GOING,    GOING. 

THE  next  morning  Clarence  was  too  sick  to  come 
down  to  breakfast.  Late  hours  and  late  suppers 
evidently  did  not  agree  with  the  delicate  boy. 

The  tete-a-tete  breakfast  of  Mr.  Rose  and  his 
wife  was  as  unsocial  as  possible.  Mr.  Rose  re 
sorted  to  the  morning  paper,  as  he  sipped  his  coffee. 
Mrs.  Rose  was  in  a  pouting  Immor,  but  was  over 
awed  by  the  unusual  silence  of  her  husband,  and 
ventured  no  remonstrance  against  the  decision  of 
the  previous  evening.  As  he  left  the  table  he  said,  — 

"My  dear,  whatever  preparations  you  have  to 
make  for  Clarence  must  be  completed  by  next  Sat 
urday  evening." 

Mr.  Rose  closed  the  door  rather  more  quickly 
than  usual,  and  was  soon  out  of  hearing. 

Mrs.  Rose  despatched  a  messenger  for  a  fashion- 


10  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

able  tailor,  and  ordered  two  full  suits  of  clothing 
for  Clarence,  to  be  completed  without  fail  at  the 
time  specified. 

Clarence  came  down  to  dinner  looking  pale  and 
forlorn.  The  curls  of  fair  hair  which  usually 
adorned  his  pretty  face  were  now  hanging  about  it 
"  like  sea-weed  round  a  clam." 

"  Parties  don't  suit  you,  boy,"  said  Mr.  Rose. 
"  You  look  as  weak  and  puny  as  a  young  kitten  who 
hasn't  opened  its  eyes.  Why,  your  own  are  scarce 
ly  open,  and  are  edged  with  scarlet.  This  will 
never  do.  A  change  of  air  will  be  beneficial.  I 
am  going  to  send  you  into  the  country,  to  school. 
You  must  be  nearly  thirteen." 

"  I'm  quite  that,"  said  Clarence,  brightening  up. 
u  I  thould  like  to  go.  The  boyth  poke  fun  at  me, 
and  thay  I'm  tied  to  mamma'th  apon  thing." 

Mr.  Rose  laughed  heartily,  while  his  other  half 
gave  a  deep  sigh.  She  had  taught  Clarence  her 
self,  to  spare  him  from  being  ridiculed  for  his 
broken  English,  and  now  dreaded  what  he  would 
have  to  encounter  among  rough  boys. 

Mr.  Rose  hitherto  had  not  interfered,  consider 
ing  Clarence  more  as  his  wife's  plaything,  than  as  a 
reasonable  human  being,  for  whom  he  was  account 
able.  His  action  was  now  decided  and  prompt. 

Mr.  Rose  continued :  "  Clarence,  I  am  going  to 
send  you  two  hundred  miles  from  home,  by  your 
self.  Do  you  think  you  are  manly  enough  to  un 
dertake  the  journey  alone?" 


GOIJYG,     GO/JVG.  11 

Clarence  hesitated  a  moment ;  then,  looking  at 
Mrs.  Rose  in  a  helpless,  sheepish  way,  he  said,  in  a 
whining  voice,  "  I  wather  have  mamma  go  with  me." 

"  No  ;  you  must  go  alone  ;  you  wished  to  be  re 
leased  from  a  woman's  '  apon  thing/  and  it  is  true 
you  have  been  tied  there  too  long.  Your  tongue, 
too,  has  been  tied  ;  and  you  must  get  it  loosened,  or 
you  will  never  do  for  lawyer,  doctor,  clergyman,  or 
merchant  either.  You  are  to  start  in  the  morning 
train  on  Monday  next  for  Raceville." 

"  Can't  I  go  part  of  the  way  with  the  dear  boy  ?  " 
asked  Mrs.  Rose,  with  the  tears  streaming  down 
her  cheeks. 

"  Not  a  step,"  was  the  stern  reply. 

u  Am  I  to  fit  for  tollege?"  asked  Clarence. 

"  If  you  will  mind  your  R-s  and  S-es  as  well  as 
your  P-s  and  Q-s,  you  may ;  but  I  do  not  think 
you  ever  will." 

u  I  thall  want  loth  of  thingth  and  plenty  of 
money,"  said  Clarence. 

"You  will  be  amply  provided  with  everything 
needful.  I  am  ashamed  of  you,  Clarence.  When 
I  was  of  your  age  I  could  have  entered  college,  if  I 
had  chosen  to  do  so ;  and  was  a  member  of  a  De 
bating  Society  ;  and  you  !  why,  you  are  a  big  baby, 
and  ought  to  wear  corals  and  a  silver  whistle  about 
your  neck,  instead  of  that  flashy  cravat." 

"  My  tavat  is  a  puffet  beauty ;  everybody  thaid 
tho,  latht  night." 


12  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

"  Listen  to  me,  Clarence,"  said  Mr.  Rose,  an 
grily.  "  I  have  written  to  Mr.  Warren  my  wishes 
concerning  you,  and  prepared  him  for  what  would 
have  otherwise  been  a  surprise  to  him.  One  thing 
more  I  have  to  say  to  you.  I  shall  not  take  the 
least  notice  of  any  complaint  you  may  make  about 
your  master  or  your  schoolmates.  You  arc  to  be 
absent  one  year  —  so  you  need  not  ask  to  come 
home  till  the  next  September." 

"  Not  if  he  should  be  homesick  ?  "  suggested  Mrs. 
Rose,  dolorously. 

"  He  must  not  be  homesick.  He  must  be  brave. 
When  boys  go  in  to  swim  early  in  the  spring,  when 
the  water  is  very  cold,  they  plunge  in  boldly,  and 
shiver  at  first  \  but  soon  they  don't  mind  it ;  they 
grow  warm.  So  it  must  be  with  you,  Clarence : 
plunge  into  school  boldly,  and  you  will  soon  get  used 
to  it." 

Mrs.  Rose  was  an  habitual  weeper.  She  was 
now  crying  immoderately. 

"  Don't  ki,  mamma.  I  thant  be  hometick,"  said 
Clarence. 

"  Ridiculous  !  Absurd  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Rose. 
"  You  see,  my  dear,  the  absolute  necessity  of  send 
ing  the  boy  away.  I  am  glad  to  find  that  he  shows 
more  willingness  to  go  than  I  expected.  You  must 
not  weaken  his  resolution." 


GOJVTE.  13 


CHAPTER    III. 

GONE  ! 

MONDAY  morning.  It  was  a  glorious  September 
day,  bland  and  bright ;  a  few  red  leaves  on  the 
maples,  a  few  yellow  elm  leaves  quietly  falling  to 
mother  earth. 

Mr.  Rose  drove  with  Clarence  to  the  station,  and 
placed  him  in  the  car  which  would  take  him  all  the 
way  to  Raceville. 

At  the  earnest  request  of  Mr.  Rose,  his  wife  did 
not  come  down  to  breakfast  that  morning  ;  so  there 
was  no  leave  taking  on  her  part.  Stern  as  Mr. 
Rose  seemed,  his  voice  trembled  and  his  eyes 
moistened  as  he  said,  u  God  bless  you,"  to  the  boy, 
who  was  leaving  the  shelter  of  his  roof,  utterly  un 
prepared  for  hardship  of  any  kind. 

Clarence  deposited  the  checks  for  two  trunks  and 
one  box  in  his  green  silk  purse,  —  through  the 
meshes  of  which  glittered  several  gold  pieces,  —  and 
stuck  his  ticket  under  the  gold  band  of  his  blue 
velvet  cap. 

The  novelty  of  a  journey  by  himself,  but  still 
more  the  possession  of  two  brand-new  trunks,  filled 
with  beautiful  clothing,  and  that  square  box,  with 
its  cake,  candies,  and  other  toothsome  dainties,  quite 


14  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

reconciled  the  boy  to  parting  with  home.  He 
nodded  to  Mr.  Rose  from  the  window  of  the  car, 
with  a  satisfied  smile,  as  the  car  started,  and  waved 
his  hand  with  a  flourish,  that  meant,  "  I  can  take 
care  of  myself." 

At  this  moment  a  young  lady  took  a  seat  beside 
him.  She  had  in  her  arms  a  small  white  and  tan 
dog,  which  she  soon  carefully  accommodated  on 
her  lap. 

The  train  whizzed  and  tore  on,  and  soon  "  miles 
and  mileses"  were  between  Clarence  and  his  city 
home. 

Soon  his  attention  was  drawn  to  the  lady  and  her 
pretty,  dumb  companion.  And  it  was  not  strange, 
for  they  were  both  worthy  of  notice. 

The  lady  apparently  had  seen  but  eighteen  sum 
mers —  eighteen  pleasant  ones,  judging  by  her 
bright,  intelligent  face.  Her  dark  gray  eyes  were 
so  sparkling  that  her  other  features  were  scarcely 
noticed ;  they  were  not  remarkably  handsome,  but 
those  splendid  eyes  and  the  beautiful  glow  of  health 
on  her  plump  cheeks  rendered  her  face  charmingly 
attractive. 

The  little  dog,  with  its  long  silken  ears  of  a  bright, 
tan  color,  lay  quietly  in  her  lap,  and  seemed  to  listen 
to  the  caressing  remarks  of  a  voice  not  "  low/'  but 
"  sweet." 

"  What  ith  your  dogth's  name? "  asked  Clarence. 
He  rejoices  in  the  name  of  Winfield,  but  we  call 


u 


GOJV£.  15 

him,  for  brevity,  Win,  and  sometimes  Winny  ;  and 
pardon  me  for  making  the  same  inquiry  of  your 
self.  What  is  your  name  ?  " 

"  Clanth  Wothe,"  was  the  reply. 

"  May  I  take  the  further  liberty  to  inquire  how 
far  you  intend  travelling  to-day,  Mr.  Wothe  ?  " 

"  I  am  going  to  Watheville,"  replied  Clarence, 
coloring  deeply  at  the  consciousness  of  his  defective 
speech. 

"  Watheville  !  I  do  not  know  any  place  of  that 
name  on  this  route.  How  far  is  it  from  the  city?" 

"  Two  bunded  mileth." 

"  That  is  just  as  far  as  I  am  going.  I  shall  be 
glad  of  your  escort." 

The  lady  chatted  away  to  her  dog,  in  a  baby- 
talk,  that  Clarence  suspected  was  an  imitation  of 
his  own ;  and  he  kept  silence,  excepting  as  he  an 
swered  the  questions  from  time  to  time  addressed 
to  him. 

"  Win,  wake  up  !  oo  lathy  itty  dog,"  said  the  fast 
young  lady.  "  Look  at  this  pretty  young  genty." 

The  creature  turned  its  dark  eyes  with  such  a 
fearfully  human  look  at  Clarence  that  he  was  quite 
startled,  and  said,  — 

"  He  theems  to  know  what  you  thay  to  him." 

"  Indeed  he  does.  I  wish  he  could  talk.  I  can 
teach  him  everything  else,"  said  she,  pulling  Win's 
long  ears. 

"  You  ought  to  thend  him  wha  I'm  going,"  said 
Clarence. 


16  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

"Where  is  that?" 

"  To  cool,"  replied  Clarence,  in  a  loud  tone. 

"  He's  cool  enough  now.  When  the  weather 
was  warm,  I  did  send  him  to  a  cool  place,  for  fear 
he  would  go  mad.  You  would  be  cooler  if  you 
took  off  your  overcoat." 

Clarence  was  so  vexed  at  being  thus  misunder 
stood,  that  when  the  train  stopped  at  the  next  sta 
tion,  he  changed  his  seat,  and  regaled  himself  with 
a  lunch  of  sandwiches  and  cakes,  placed  for  him, 
by  his  indulgent  mamma,  in  the  capacious  pocket 
of  his  overcoat. 

After  a  while  he  began  to  feel  quite  solitary,  in 
the  midst  of  so  many  entire  strangers,  and  now 
and  then  brushed  a  tear  from  his  blue  eyes.  The 
purse  and  its  contents  were,  however,  an  unfailing 
source  of  relief.  He  took  it  frequently  from  his 
pocket,  and  held  it  up  to  admire  the  u  shiners " 
within,  and  carefully  replaced  it  in  his  inner  coat 
pocket. 

When  the  train  stopped  for  dinner,  Clarence, 
contrary  to  the  command  of  Mr.  Eose,  got  out  of 
the  car,  and  went  to  the  table.  Why  shouldn't  he 
dine,  like  other  folks,  even  if  he  had  eaten  a  lunch  ? 
So  he  hurried  down  his  dinner  like  "  other  folks," 
paid  his  half  dollar,  and  dropped  his  purse  into  the 
pocket  of  his  overcoat. 

After  dinner,  Raceville  seemed  to  the  solitary 
boy  a  kind  of  Cape  Flyaway.  Every  time  the 


GOME.  17 

conductor  came  along,  the  boy  asked  if  they  had 
almost  reached  Watheville. 

He  began  to  be  very  sick,  —  the  motion  of  the 
train  not  agreeing  with  an  overloaded  stomach,  — 
and  he  was  obliged  frequently  to  put  his  head  out 
of  the  window. 

He  began  to  cry  right  heartily.  Just  then  the 
conductor  called  out  Raceville,  and  tapped  Clarence 
on  the  shoulder. 

Gladly  Clarence  rushed  out  of  the  car,  and  soon 
spied  his  trunks  and  box  on  the  platform. 

"  Any  baggage,  mister,"  said  a  porter. 

"  Want  a  carriage,  sir,"  bawled  another. 

"  Yith,  I  want  a  cawedge ;  an  I've  got  two 
twunks  and  a  both." 

The  men  winked  at  each  other,  and  the  hack- 
driver  asked  for  his  checks. 

Clarence  felt  for  his  purse,  in  this  pocket  and  that, 
—  in  every  pocket,  —  and  it  was  not  to  be  found. 

"  How  do  I  know  them  is  your  twunks,  if  you 
can't  show  the  checks-  ?"  said  the  hackman. 

"  Betause  I  know  it,"  was  the  angry  answer. 
"  Take  'em  up  and  put  'em  on  the  cawedge."  . 

A  provoking  laugh  followed,  and  the  inquiry,  — 

"  Where  are  you  going?" 

"  To  Mitht  Wawnth  cool." 

"  There  isn't  a  person  of  that  name  in  all  Race 
ville.     You  must  be  a  runaway,"  said  the  porter, 
"or  else  you've  mistaken  the  place." 
2 


18  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

"  I  am  not  a  wunaway  ;  I  am  the  son  of  Mithter 
Wothe,  of  New  Yawk  ;  lie  put  me  on  the  twain 
himthelf." 

"  That  he  did,  indade,"  said  a  well-dressed  Irish 
man,  handing  out  three  checks.  "Take  up  the 
young  masther's  luggage,  and  don't  stand  here 
insulting  him." 

"Why,  Pat,  how  came  you  here?"  exclaimed 
Clarence,  astonished  to  see  the  waiter  from  his  own 
home. 

"  The  misthress  sent  me  to  take  care  of  you,  but 
not  to  let  you  see  me  unless  you  got  into  throuble." 

"  But  how  did  you  find  my  puth !  "  said  Clar 
ence,  seizing  the  purse. 

"  Afther  you  had  dined,  like  a  gintleman,  and 
was  getting  into  the  car,  I  took  it  out  of  your 
pocket,  for  fear  some  one  else  would  do  it ;  for  I 
saw  a  little  paper  with,  '  Look  out  for  pickpockets,' 
on  it,  posted  up  at  the  station ;  so  I  just  thought 
I  should  be  the  most  convanient  pickpocket  for 

you." 

"  Don't  tell  papa  of  that,"  said  Clarence ;  "  he 
might  not  be  pleased  with  you." 

Pat  laughed,  and  said,  "Better  pleased  that  I 
should  do  it,  than  that  you  should  have  lost  checks, 
money,  and  all." 

The  carriage  soon  conveyed  them  to  the  parson 
age,  the  residence  of  the  Rev.  Albertus  Warren. 

As  Pat  assisted  the  waiter  at  the  parsonage  to 


GONE.  19 

carry  the  trunks  to  the  room  appropriated  to  Clar 
ence,  he  offered  the  man  a  five-dollar  gold  piece, 
saying,  "  The  misthress  sent  this  to  you,  begging 
you  would  be  kind  to  her  darlint,  Masther  Clarence. 
She  would  pick  out  her  two  eyes  for  him." 

Honest  Tom  refused  the  money. 

"  Now,  that's  a  mysthery  Father  Malony  himself 
couldn't  explain.  I  thought  all  Yankees  loved 
money." 

"  They  like  to  earn  their  money  fairly,  and  not 
be  paid  till  they  have  earned  it.  Mr.  Warren  does 
not  allow  us  to  take  money  from  the  boys.  I'll  be 
as  kind,  to  the  popinjay  as  I  can  be,  though  he  looks 
mighty  proud." 

."  He's  a  mighty  nice  lad,"  said  Pat,  warmly, 
"  only ,"  he  added  in  a  low  tone,  "  a  leetle  bit 
spoilt." 

While  this  conversation  was  going  on  in  the  long 
entry,  Clarence  was  being  kindly  received  by  Mr. 
Warren. 

"  This  lady  you  have  seen  before,"  said  Mr. 
Warren,  as  he  presented  Mrs.  Warren. 

Clarence  was  surprised  and  embarrassed  when 
he  saw  that  it  was  the  lady  whom  he  had  abruptly 
left  in  the  car. 

She  smiled  roguishly,  but  greeted  him  warmly. 
She  had  walked  from  the  station,  and  reached 
the  parsonage  long  enough  before  Clarence  to  tell 
Mr.  Warren  of  her  meeting  the  boy,  and  of  her 


20  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

perplexity  about  "  Watheville,"  and  about  going  to 
"  cool." 

l(  I  will  show  you  to  your  room,  Clarence,"  said 
Mr.  Warren,  kindly.  u  We  shall  have  tea  in  half 
an  hour.  And,  my  lad,  I  shall  ask  you  no  ques 
tions  at  table,  for  Mr.  Rose  informs  me  that  you 
have  a  defect  in  your  speech,  which,  however,  we 
hope,  in  time,  entirely  to  cure." 


CHAPTER    IV. 

THE    "COOL." 

WHEN  the  bell  rang  for  tea,  the  family,  consist 
ing  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Warren,  Jack  Jimson,  and 
Stackpole  Clap,  came  to  the  table ;  but  Clarence 
did  not  make  his  appearance. 

"  I  will  go  for  the  stranger  as  soon  as  I  have 
poured  out  your  tea,"  said  Mrs,  Warren.  She 
tapped  gently  at  the  door  of  the  room  assigned  to 
Clarence.  No  voice  bade  her  come  in.  She 
opened  the  door.  The  poor  boy  had  thrown  him 
self  upon  the  bed,  and  cried  himself  to  sleep. 
Mrs.  Warren  did  not  disturb  him.  She  closed  the 
door  quietly,  and  went  down  stairs. 

About  an  hour  after  she  went  again,  and,  awa 
kening  him,  begged  him  to  come  down  stairs  and 
take  supper. 


THE   "COOL."  21 

Clarence  roused  himself,  and  Mrs.*  Warren,  see 
ing  his  hair  was  in  wild  disorder,  with  one  of  her 
own  small  side  combs  arranged  the  fair  curls  about 
his  face,  just  as  she  would  if  he  had  been  a  pretty 
baby.  This  was  not  just  the  thing  for  Clarence, 
who  had  had  too  much  petting  already ;  and  so 
Mr.  Warren  said  to  his  wife,  after  she  had  kindly 
and  tenderly  devoted  herself  to  him,  while  the  boy 
partook  of  the  nice,  warm  supper  set  before  him. 

Mr.  Warren  took  her  aside,  and  said,  "  This  will 
never  do.  The  boy  must  be  turned  in  with  the 
others  at  once.  I  am  afraid  he  will  receive  rather 
rough  treatment,  but  he  might  as  well  go  through 
with  it  first  as  last." 

"  Spare  him  for  a  week,  at  least,"  pleaded  his 
young  wife. 

"  No,  I  have  decided  otherwise.  You  must  not 
indulge  him,  because  he  is  a  spoiled  pet.  I  shall 
take  him  to  the  library,  and  make  him  acquainted 
with  Jack  and  Stackpole." 

"But  he  is  tired  and  sleepy,"  still  urged  Mrs. 
Warren. 

"  Please,  my  dear,  not  another  word  in  his 
behalf." 

Mr.  Warren  then  returned  to  Clarence,  and  said, 
"The  boys  pass  an  hour  together  every  night  in 
the  library,  and  amuse  themselves  according  to 
their  own  pleasure.  I  will  make  you  acquainted 
with  them." 


22  TRUE   MANLINESS. 

They  found  the  two  boys  engaged  in  playing  a 
game  of  checkers. 

Jack  Jimson  was  nearly  six  feet  tall.  His  arms 
were  long  in  proportion  to  his  body,  and  his  hands 
immensely  large.  His  coarse  black  hair  stood  up 
as  stiffly  as  the  bristles  of  a 'shoe  brush,  and  his 
large  ears  were  a  deeper  red  than  his  face,  which 
was  by  no  means  destitute  of  color.  His  wide 
mouth  displayed  a  set  of  strong  yellow  teeth,  which 
had  not  been  subjected  to  a  dentist's  manipulations, 
judging  from  their  remarkable  irregularity. 

He  rose  from  his  seat,  and  bowed  awkwardly  to 
Clarence,  looking  down  upon  him  as  though  he  had 
been  a  squirrel  or  a  canary  bird. 

Stackpole  Clap  was  not  much  larger  than  Clar 
ence.  He  might  possibly  have  boasted  of  full  five 
feet  of  height,  but  seemed  not  as  tall,  from  an 
habitual  stoop,  which  might  have  been  acquired 
from  perpetual  cringing.  He  walked  as  if  he  were 
always  saying  to  the  very  ground,  "  By  your 
leave ; "  not  because  he  was  humble  and  modest, 
but  because  he  was  obsequious,  and  had  not  inde 
pendence  enough  to  say  either  his  body  or  his  soul 
was  his  own.  His  hair,  straight  as  a  candle,  was 
almost  as  white,  and  his  pale-blue  eyes  wandered 
even  when  he  spoke,  as  though  seeking  for  appro 
bation  from  those  about  him.  He  bowed  low  to 
Clarence,  looking  at  the  same  time  at  Jack. 

Clarence  felt  exceedingly  shy  and  embarrassed. 


THE    "  COOL"  23 

Jack  Jimson  assumed  an  air  of  immense  superi 
ority,  and  eyed  the  new  comer  as  he  would  a  cat 
which  he  intended  to  torment,  his  staring  dark 
eyes  and  heavy  eyebrows  giving  him  the  air  of  a 
young  bandit. 

Poor  little  Clarence  shrunk  from  the  saucy  stare, 
and  fairly  trembled  when  Jack  asked,  in  a  coarse 
voice,  — 

"  Mister,  what  —  may  —  I  —  call  you  ?  " 

"  Wo  the,"  meekly  replied  Clarence. 

"'Well,  Wothe,  you  got  seasick  and  homesick 
on  the  railroad  ;  didn't  you  ?  " 

"  Yith,  thir." 

A  loud  laugh  from  Jack,  echoed  by  Stackpole 
Clap,  sounded  through  the  apartment. 

Clarence,  unaccustomed  to  such  violent  imperti 
nence,  roused  himself,  and  said  to  Stackpole,  — 

"You  might  be  mo'  polite  to  a  —  a" — Clar 
ence  hesitated;  he  could  not  say  stranger  —  "  new 
acquaintanth." 

Stackpole  stifled  his  laughter,  and  pretended  to 
sneeze. 

"  Why  !  how  now  !  There's  some  spunk  in  you. 
More,  I  dare  say,  than  there  is  in  my  toady,  if  you 
are  such  u  dolly-boy." 

Clarence  took  no  notice  of  the  remark,  but 
turned  over  the  leaves  of  a  book,  and  commenced 
reading  to  himself. 

The  other  boys  resumed  the  game  that  had  been 


24  TRUE   MANLINESS. 

interrupted ;    but  that  was  soon  ended  by  Jack's 
gaining  the  victory. 

"  Well,  now,  Jack,  tell  us   one  of  your  funny 
stories,"  said  Stackpole. 

"  Willingly,"  was  the  reply,  "  if  Mr.  Wothe  has 
no  objection." 

"  Thertainly  I  have  not." 

"  I  suppose  you  have  always  lived  in  the  city. 
Do  you  know  much  about  the  country  ?  " 

"I  do  not." 

"  Well,  once  upon  a  time,"  said  Jack,  "  not  very 
long  ago,  a  great,  horrid  black  bear  prowled  about 
this  very  house.  He  came  out  of  the  woods,  not 
far  off,  as  hungry  as  hungry  could  be,  all  ready  to 
eat  up  somebody.  He  was  an  awful  big  creature,^ 
a  great  deal  bigger  than  an  ox,  with  teeth  as  long  as 
my  forefinger,  and  a  mouth  big  enough  to  take 
your  head  right  off,  Mr.  Wothe,  at  a  single  mouth 
ful.  Well,  there  was  a  small  boy  at  this  school, 
about  your  size,  with  just  such  curly  hair  and  blue 
eyes ;  a  real  dolly-boy,  mamma's  pet,  —  a  pretty 
creature,  just  fit  to  put  in  a  toy-shop  window, 
to  please  little  eight-year-old  girls.  Well,  that 
pretty  boy  put  his  head  out  that  window,  one  night, 
when  he  heard  the  bear  growl ;  and,  lo  and  behold, 
the  bear  was  prowling  about  just  here,  and  when 
he  saw  that  curly  head,  he  snapped  at  it,  and 
scalped  the  boy  entirely ;  took  the  skin  right  off 
the  top  of  his  head,  curls  and  all,  as  neatly  as  a 


THE   "  COOL."  25 

Pottawatamie  Indian  could  have  done  it  with  his 
tomahawk.  Never  a  single  hair  grew  again  on  the 
top  of  that  sweet  boy's  head." 

Stackpole  giggled  and  snickered.  Jack  turned 
fiercely  upon  him,  and  said,  "  None  of  your  laugh 
ing,  just  as  I  am  coming  to  the  tragical  end." 

Stackpole  collapsed.     Jack  went  on. 

"  Well,  one  day,  a  whole  month  after,  when  his 
head  had  healed  over,  the  boy  —  let's  see  —  Pink 
—  yes,  that  was  his  name  —  went  to  the  woods 
with  some  other  boys,  a  nutting.  Suddenly  they 
heard  a  tremendous  growl,  and  all  ran.  Poor  Pink 
was  so  frightened  that  he  tumbled  down ;  and  the 
bear,  having  had  a  taste  of  the  delicate  little  dolly- 
boy  before,  liked  it  well,  and  devoured  him  now 
entirely.  Nothing  remained  of  him  but  a  few  gilt 
buttons  and  a  beautiful  red  neck-tie. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  that,  Mr.  Wothe?" 

"  I  think  the  black  ba'  wath  much  like  youthelf," 
said  Clarence,  who  had  completely  recovered  self- 
possession. 

Stackpole,  in  spite  of  himself,  and  his  fear  of 
Jack,  laughed  outright. 

Jack  seized  the  toady  by  the  shoulder,  and  gave 
him  a  shaking  so  violent  that  the  boy  shrieked, 
and  the  noise  brought  Mr.  Warren  to  the  library. 

"  How  now  !  "  he  exclaimed  ;  "  what  does  this 
mean?  Jack  and  Stackpole  fighting?" 

Neither  of  the  combatants  answered. 


26  TRUE   MANLIMESS. 

"  He,"  said  Clarence,  pointing  to  Jack,  "  told  a 
funny  thowy,  and  that  boy  laughed  at  it ;  then  lie 
thook  him." 

"  Jack,  you  are  violent  in  your  demonstrations ; 
ask  Stackpole's  pardon." 

"  Pardon,  Pole,"  muttered  Jack. 

"  It  is  granted,  entirely,"  replied  Stackpole, 
bowing  in  the  most  cringing  manner  to  big  Jack. 

"I  am  sorry,"  added  Mr.  Warren,  "that  our 
young  friend  Clarence  should  have  witnessed  such 
behavior,  the  very  first  evening  of  his  arrival." 

"  O,  it  wath  funny,"  said  Clarence,  laughing. 
"  It  hath  done  me  good." 

And  so  it  had.  Though  petted,  and  rendered 
effeminate  by  weak  indulgence,  Clarence  was,  nat 
urally,  neither  silly  nor  a  coward.  He  had  been 
very  little  in  company  with  boys  of  his  own  age, 
but  had  been  much  with  older  people,  and  was  not 
habitually  bashful. 

Mr.  Warren  now  summoned  the  boys  to  the 
parlor  for  evening  prayers. 


ROLLING  THE  R.  27 

CHAPTER    V. 

ROLLING  THE   B. 

• 

AT  the  very  outset  of  his  school  course,  Clarence 
had  thus  rendered  Jack  Jimson,  the  bully  of  the 
school,  his  formidable  enemy. 

In  addition  to  the  four  boarders  in  Mr.  Warren's 
family,  there  were  eight  or  ten  boys  from  the 
village,  who  attended  as  day-scholars.  Over  all 
these  Jack  ruled  by  strength  of  fist,  and  no  one 
had  yet  dared  to  brave  the  strong  despot.  The 
small  boys  looked  up  to  him  as  young  Indians  do 
to  their  savage  chief,  and  the  larger  ones  durst  not 
measure  their  strength  with  his,  either  singly  or 
combined. 

Mr.  Warren,  though  a  kind  man,  and  an  excel 
lent  teacher,  knew  little  of  the  morale  of  the  school, 
excepting  intellectually.  As  long  as  they  conducted 
themselves  properly  in  his  presence,  and  gave  good 
recitations,  he  was  satisfied,  and  made  no  further 
investigations. 

Not  so  with  his  "  fast  "  young  wife.  She  knew 
much  more  of  what  was  going  on  out  of  school. 
She  was  better  acquainted  with  the  boys,  and,  with 
a  woman's  quick  intuition,  understood  their  charac 
ters  much  more  thoroughly  than  did  her  husband, 


28  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

with  all  his  learning  —  his  mathematics,  Greek  and 
Latin.  She  knew  what  elements  made  up  the 
character  of  Jack  Jimson,  as  well  as  she  knew  the 
contents  of  the  castors  on  her  dinner-table.  If  she 
had  made  the  comparison  between  them,  she  would 
have  said  that  mustard^  red  pepper,  and  vinegar 
were  constituent  elements  in  the  composition  of 
Jack  Jimson's  character,  while  the  oil  predominated 
in  that  of  Stackpole  Clap.  She  had  already  learned 
that  Clarence  was  not  a  soft  custard.  He  had 
ruled  Mrs.  Rose  at  home;  he  had  ruled  the  ser 
vants,  and  apparently  Mr.  Rose.  It  was  a  surprise 
to  the  boy  when  Mr.  Rose  "  set  down  his  foot," 
and  ordered  Clarence  oiF  to  school,  who  thought 
himself  master  of  the  house. 

Clarence  had  not  yet  been  allowed  to  go  into  the 
school-room  with  the  other  boys,  though  he  had 
now  been  at  Raceville  a  whole  week :  neither  had 
he  been  allowed  again  to  pass  the  hour  of  evening 
recreation  in  the  library. 

And  what  was  he  doing  all  that  time  ?  Learning 
to  speak  his  own  name  with  Mrs.  Warren.  Again 
to  be  taught  by  a  woman  !  This  was  a  bitter  pill, 
but  nicely  sugared  over  by  kindness. 

"  Clarence,"  said  she,  u  I  want  to  save  you  from 
ridicule.  Jack  Jimson  is  ready  to  break  out  in  his 
coarse  haw,  haw,  haw !  every  time  you  open  your 
lips." 

"  I  don't  mind  Jack  Jimthon,  that"  said  Clar- 


HARVEY  AMADQRE.  29 

ence,  snapping  his  delicate  white  finger  and 
thumb. 

"  But  you  must  mind  me.  I  do  not  wish  to  have 
you  ridiculous,  and  you  make  yourself  so  by  your 
baby-talk.  You  must  learn  to  speak  your  own 
name,  EOSQ  ; "  and  little  Mrs.  Warren  rolled  the  E 
like  a  Bourdeaux  Frenchman. 

"  Thwothe,"  said  Clarence. 

Over  and  over  again  the  persistent  teacher  re 
peated  the  word  from  day  to  day  ;  but  finding  her 
pupil  made  little  progress,  she  tried  the  simpler 
word  rat.  Her  perseverance  was  rewarded ;  for 
at  the  end  of  the  week,  her  pupil,  who  had  made  a 
tremendous  effort,  had  at  last  succeeded  in  rolling 
the  E  —  to  him  the  first  step  on  the  mountain 
Difficulty. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

HARVEY  AMADOKE. 

ALTHOUGH  Mrs.  Warren  had  kept  Clarence  from 
the  school-room,  and  had  asked  him  as  few  ques 
tions  as  possible  at  table,  through  the  mimicry  of 
Jack  Jimson  he  had  become  an  object  of  curiosity 
and  of  ridicule  to  every  boy  in  the  school.  His 
sobriquet  on  the  playground  was  u  Clanthe  Wothe, 
the  dolly-boy." 


30  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

At  the  end  of  the  week  another  boarder  arrived, 
whom  Mr.  Warren  introduced  at  the  tea-table  as 
Harvey  Amadore.  A  right  pleasant  face  had  Har 
vey  Amadore.  His  hazel  eyes  were  just  the  color 
of  his  wavy  hair,  and  his  clear,  ruddy  complexion 
betokened  perfect  health.  His  large  mouth,  which 
was  seldom  entirely  closed,  displayed  a  set  of  clean, 
handsome  teeth,  and  his  broad  chin  and  ample  fore 
head  added  a  strongly  intellectual  character  to  a 
countenance  strikingly  expressive  of  great  humor 
and  a  genial  disposition.  With  all  her  penetration, 
Mrs.  Warren  felt  there  was  something  about  this 
new  boy  that,  at  the  first  glance,  she  did  not  under 
stand. 

Clarence  was  glad  that  the  new-comer's  seat  was 
on  his  side  of  the  table,  and  drew  from  it  the 
pleasing  inference  that  he  would  be  on  his  side  in 
more  ways  than  one. 

The  next  day  was  Sunday.  The  boys  sat  in  the 
pew  with  Mrs.  Warren,  directly  in  front  of  the 
pulpit.  Harvey  brought  his  own  prayer-book, 
much  worn,  but  apparently  carefully  preserved,  for 
it  was  covered  with  calico.  This  amused  the  two 
boys  at  the  end  of  the  pew,  and  induced  Clarence 
to  make  the  comparison  between  that  and  his  own 
new  prayer-book,  with  its  purple  velvet  binding 
and  gilt  clasps. 

While  Harvey  Amadore  was  intently  listening, 
and  devoutly  responding  to  the  Litany,  Jack  and 


HARVEY  AMADORE.  31 

Stackpole  were  holding  a  whispered  consultation, 
the  result  of  which  was,  a  piece  of  tobacco  placed 
upon  Harvey's  prayer-book.  Harvey  shook  it  off 
indignantly.  He  had  scarcely  recovered  from  the 
shock  induced  by  this  irreverent  interruption,  when 
a  piece  of  candy  was  placed  upon  his  prayer-book 
by  Clarence,  his  neighbor  on  the  other  side.  He 
returned  it,  and  whispered  to  Clarence,  "Please 
don't  trouble  me." 

It  was  some  time  before  Harvey  could  compose 
his  mind,  and  bring  back  his  wandering  thoughts. 
He  listened  to  the  sermon,  however,  with  great 
interest,  in  spite  of  the  restlessness  of  his  right 
hand  neighbors,  and  the  loud  breathing  of  Clarence, 
who  was  taking  a  comfortable  nap.  Mrs.  Warren 
was  afraid  to  awaken  him,  lest  he  should  speak  out 
and  disturb  her  good  husband. 

On  the  way  home,  Harvey  and  Clarence  walked 
together.  The  former  was  dressed  in  a  suit  of 
stout  gray  cloth,  and  Clarence  contrasted  his  own 
fine  clothing  with  that  of  his  companion  with  great 
satisfaction. 

Clarence  was  perfumed  with  otto  of  roses,  musk, 
and  mille-fleurs.  The  perfume  had  been  sickening 
to  Harvey  in  church,  and  now,  even  in  the  open 
air,  it  was  offensive  to  his  olfactory  nerves. 

u  You  are  fond  of  perfumes,  I  perceive,"  said 
Harvey.  "  Musk  is  particularly  disagreeable  to 


32  TRUE   MANLINESS. 

"  Ith  it?  Then  I  won't  uthe  it  any  mo',"  replied 
Clarence. 

"  You  are  very  kind,"  said  Harvey. 

"  I  thould  like  to  be  kind  to  tkomething,  even 
a  rat" 

This  was  said  with  such  startling  emphasis  on 
the  last  word,  that  Harvey,  surprised  and  much 
amused,  looked  eagerly  into  the  face  of  his  com 
panion.  The  expression  was  not  silly,  and  it  was 
kindly. 

"You  did  not  mean  to  call  me  a  rat?  I  hope 
we  shall  be  good  friends,"  said  Harvey ;  "  but 
don't  offer  me  candy  in  church ;  it  disturbs  me. 
Not  so  much,  however,  as  tobacco  —  odious,  dis 
gusting  tobacco." 

"  We'  not  allowed  to  chew  tobacco  aw  to  thmoke 
thegars  here,"  said  Clarence  ;  "  they  do,  both,"  — 
turning  his  head  around,  to  see  if  the  other  boys 
were  near. 

They  were  some  distance  behind. 

"Well,  we  will  try  to  keep  the  rules  of  the 
school.  I  am  for  obedience  to  authority.  We 
shall  be  a  great  deal  happier  if  we  try  to  do  right. 
We  must  help  each  other." 

"  How  old  be  you?"  asked  Clarence. 

"  I  am  fourteen." 

"  I  am  thirteen."  A  bright  color  flushed  his 
face,  and  the  boy,  delighted  that  he  had  overcome 
one  difficulty,  repeated,  with  exultation,  "THIR 
TEEN." 


HARVEY  AMJ1DORE.  33 

They  had  now  arrived  at  the  gate  of  the  par 
sonage. 

Jack  and  Stackpole,  as  they  walked  home 
together,  were  discussing  the  new  scholar. 

"  He  looks  as  if  he  might  be  a  right  jolly  fel 
low,"  said  Jack  ;  "  but  he  don't  act  like  one." 

"Why  not?"  asked  the  toady,  Stackpole  Clap. 

"  He  threw  off  the  cud  of  tobacco  as  if  it  had 
been  a  rattlesnake.  Then  he  was  so  awful  devout. 
We  will  smoke  out  the  young  hypocrite.  I'll  war 
rant  you  he  expects  to  recommend  himself  to  Mrs. 
Warren  and  her  deary  by  his  pious  ways  at 
church.  But  we'll  make  him  show  another  face. 
No  hypocrites  for  me." 

"  Nor  for  me,  either,"  responded  Stackpole. 

"  As  for  dolly-boy,  we  shall  have  fun  enough 
with  him  to-morrow,  for  he  is  going  to  join  our 
class  in  school.  Think  of  that !  OUT  class  of  big 
boys.  We'll  hustle  him." 

"So  we  will.  Our  class?  Who  would  have 
thought  it?  We'll  hustle  him"  said  Toady. 

"  Come,  we  must  hurry  on.  I  shouldn't  wonder, 
now,  if  the  new  boy  should  take  a  fancy  to  that 
fine-as-a-fiddle  boy,  just  because  he  is  so  much  bet 
ter  dressed  than  himself.  They  are,  excepting  on 
the  outside,  animals  of  the  same  sort,  —  soft,  soft, 
—  don't  you  think  so?" 

"  Yes,  I  do  indeed,"  was  the  quick  reply ;  "  very 

soft," 

3 


34  TRUE   MANLINESS. 

"  Well,  now,  on  second  thoughts,  I  don't  think 
so.  They  are  no  more  alike  than  a  pea  and  a 
pumpkin." 

"  Ain't  they?  So  they  ain't !  "  muttered  Toady, 
who  was  fairly  caught,  and  had  to  whiffle  round 
like  a  weathercock  in  a  high  wind. 

Foolish,  wicked  boys,  thus  to  spend  the  blessed 
hours  of  the  Lord's  day. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

MISCHIEF   BREWING. 

Letter  from  Clarence  Rose  to  Mrs.  Rose  :  — 

RACEVILLE,  September  20, 18—. 

DEAR  MAMMA  :  I  can  say  Rat.  I  can  say  Rose. 
Mr.  Warren  had  the  dentist  to  examine  my  teeth, 
and  the  surgeon  to  look  at  my  throat,  palate,  &c. 
They  said  they  were  all  right,  and  nothing  pre 
vented  my  speaking  like  other  boys,  if  I  would 
only  try.  Mrs.  Warren  has  taken  great  pains  with 
me,  and  rolled  her  tongue  for  a  whole  week  to 
teach  me  how  to  speak.  I  thought  I  should  tie  my 
tongue  into  a  knot,  I  tried  so  hard  to  roll  the  R ; 
but  I  finally  succeeded.  Wasn't  it  kind  in  Mrs. 
Warren  to  keep  me  out  of  school  till  I  did?  I 


MISCHIEF    BREWINQ.  35 

don't  cry,  now,  after  I  am  in  bed  at  night,  as  I  did 
when  I  first  came  here  —  only  now  and  then. 

I  am  in  school  with  the  other  boys  now.  You 
ought  to  see  what  a  nice  school-room  we  have  ;  it 
is  carpeted  with  a  pretty  green  and  brown  carpet, 
and  the  desks  are  of  black  walnut,  covered  with 
green  cloth.  All  round  the  room  are  hung  maps 
and  pictures.  The  windows  look  out  on  a  garden, 
which  has  in  it  dahlias,  tuberoses,  china-asters,  and 
several  other  flowers  in  bloom. 

The  school-room  is  in  one  wing  of  the  building, 
and  in  the  other  wing,  to  match,  are  our  bed-rooms, 
four  of  them,  all  on  the  first  floor.  It  seems  as 
though  these  two  wings  had  been  added  to  the  par 
sonage  just  for  us  boys. 

I  thank  you,  dear  mamma,  for  teaching  me  to 
write  and  to  spell.  We  don't  spell  out,  but  write 
on  our  slates  the  words,  just  as  I  used  to  at  home. 
Every  spelling  lesson  of  mine  has  been  O.  K. 
Mine  was  the  only  slate  that  had  no  mistake.  I 
thought  how  much  pains  you  had  taken  with  my 
spelling  and  definitions. 

My  box  of  cakes,  candies,  and  sweetmeats  was 
quite  forgotten,  till,  the  other  night,  I  asked  Mrs. 
Warren  for  it.  I  told  her  what  was  in  it,  and  she 
said  I  had  better  make  a  feast  for  the  boys  in  the 
school-room,  than  to  go  by  myself  and  "  guzzle 
down  goodies  like  a  glutton."  Wasn't  that  funny  ? 
She  is  very  funny.  So  we  knocked  open  the  box, 
and  O,  what  lots  of  goodies ! 


36  TRUE  MANLINESS. 

We  had  a  jolly  time  in  the  library  —  I,  and  Jack, 
and  Stackpole,  and  the  new  boy.  Thomas,  the 
waiter,  brought  in  saucers,  spoons,  &c.  I  carried 
a  saucer  of  your  nice  strawberry  preserves,  and 
some  of  your  pound-cakes,  to  Mrs.  Warren.  I  did 
not  make  myself  sick,  and  I  never  enjoyed  myself 
more  in  all  my  life.  The  boys  thought  it  was  to 
celebrate  the  arrival  of  Harvey  Amadore,  the  new 
boy.  Do  you  know  the  Amadores  ?  The  boys  call 
him  a  Trojan.  He  wears  plain  gray  clothes,  but  I 
think  they  were  made  by  a  fashionable  tailor,  they 
fit  so  nicely.  I  am  in  the  same  class  with  him  in 
English  studies.  We  have  ten  day-scholars  in  our 
school ;  and  Jack  Jimson  is  the  bully  of  the  school. 
I  don't  like  Stackpole  Clap  ;  he  sniggers,  and  winks 
at  Jack,  every  time  I  speak.  He  is  as  mean  as 
dirt,  and  as  dirty  as  mean. 

Tell  papa  I  can  say  Rat  and  ROSE,  and  give  my 
love  to  him.  I  think  he  did  well  to  send  me  here. 
I  hope  you  don't  feel  lonely.  I  don't  like  to  be 
laughed  at ;  do  you,  dear  mamma?  I  wonder  why 
the  boys  call  me  dolly-boy.  They  never  did  in 
New  York;  though  at  the  party  they  did  call  me 
little  Wainbow.  Dolly,  or  not  dolly,  I  am 
Your  affectionate  son, 

CLARENCE  ROSE. 

P.  S.  Tell  Pat  I  haven't  forgot  how  nicely  he 
picked  niy  pocket.  Whenever  I  see  my  purse,  I 
think  of  him,  with  many  thanks. 


MISCHIEF    BREWING.  37 

« 

The  new  boy,  Harvey  Amadore,  was  already  far 
advanced  in  Latin  and  Greek,  and  was  really  en 
joying  Cicero  and  Xenophon ;  but  his  English 
studies  had  been  much  neglected.  Clarence  had 
the  laugh  at  Harvey  when  he  saw,  in  one  of  his 
exercises,  women  spelt  wimmen,  and  candidate 
spelt  handy  dait. 

"  We  won't  laugh  at  each  other,"  said  Harvey. 
"  I  will  try  to  correct  my  spelling,  and  you  your 
pronunciation.  We  will  help  each  other." 

"  Agreed.  There,  I  thaid  agreed,"  said  Clar 
ence,  exultiugly. 

On  the  play-ground,  one  day,  Jack  Jimson  called 
Harvey  Amadore  aside,  and  said,  — 

"  I  wonder  how  you  can  be  so  intimate  with  that 
silly  little  monkey  —  Wothy  Pothy,  as  we  call 
him.  You  might  be  one  of  ws,  if  you  chose." 

"And  what  are  you?"  asked  Harvey,  with  a 
smile. 

u  Jolly  boys,  every  one,"  replied  Jack,  drawing 
up  his  tall,  thin  person,  and  holding  his  arms 
akimbo. 

"  None  are  merrier  than  I,"  said  Harvey. 

"  That's  the  mischief  of  it.  You  can  play  shin- 
ney  and  football  with  the  best  of  us,  and  beat  us, 
too  ;  but  somehow  you  don't  seem  to  be  of  us. 
We  have  rare  sport  with  some  of  the  day-scholars. 
They  tell  us  all  that  is  going  on  in  the  village. 
There  is  a  queer  old  lady,  liviug  all  by  herself,  who 


38  TRUE    MAJVLLYESS. 

has  some  fine  turkeys  all  ready  for  market.  We 
are  going  to  borrow  one,  and  roast  it  in  the  woods, 
to-night.  We  shall  have  a  glorious  time.  Will 
you  go  with  us  ?  " 

Harvey  could  scarcely  wait  till  Jack  finished 
speaking  ;  then  he  burst  forth,  vehemently,  u  Steal 
a  turkey !  Break  the  eighth  commandment !  I 
am  astonished ! " 

"  O,  you  are  a  green  one!  We  have  taken  a 
chicken  once,  and  eggs  again  and  again;  and  old 
Debby  has  never  missed  them." 

"  But  you  have  enough  to  eat,  surely,  at  Mr. 
Warren's." 

"Well,  yes;  but  it's  the  fun  of  the  thing, 
and  having  a  good  time  in  the  woods.  Now,  you 
won't  be  so  mean  as  to  tell  Mr.  Warren,  Harvey 
Amadore  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  would  be  my  duty  to  do  so,"  was  the 
quick  reply. 

"  Woe  to  all  telltales  !  The  whole  school  would 
turn  against  you,  and  you  would  have  no  peace  of 
your  life,"  said  Jack. 

"  Bat,"  said  Harvey,  "  if  you  break  into  the 
woman's  house,  it  will  be  burglary,  as  well  as  theft." 

"  No,  it  won't  be  either.  The  turkeys  arc  in  a 
shed,  back  of  the  house  ;  and  we  mean  to  pay  the 
old  soul  for  them  some  time  or  other." 

After  a  few  moments'  hesitation,  Harvey  said  he 
would  not  tell  Mr.  Warren. 


MISCHIEF    BREWING.  39 

"  Nor  dolly-boy,  either?" 

"  If  you  mean  Clarence  Rose,  I  will  not  tell  him 
of  your  wicked  intention.  I  should  be  sorry  to 
have  him  know  that  such  bad  things  could  be  done 
by  any  of  his  schoolmates." 

"  You  set  up  for  a  preacher  ;  do  you?  A  thresh 
ing  would  do  you  good.  I  have  half  a  mind  to 
give  it  to  you  now  ;  "  and,  suiting  the  action  to  the 
word,  Jack  doubled  up  his  big  fist  and  shook  it 
before  Harvey's  face. 

Harvey  was  a  stout,  muscular  boy,  accustomed 
to  gymnastics  and  other  athletic  exercises,  and  of  a 
quick  temper.  Sudden  as  a  flash,  he  seized  Jack 
by  the  waist,  tripped  him  up,  and  the  tall  fellow 
lay  sprawling  on  the  ground. 

The  partisans  of  Jack,  knowing  his  object  in 
having  a  private  talk  with  Harvey,  had  been  watch 
ing  at  a  distance,  anxious  to  know  what  would  be 
the  result.  Great  was  their  astonishment  to  see 
their  leader,  the  bully  of  the  school,  laid  prostrate 
on  the  ground.  All  the  boys  rushed  to  the  scene 
of  action,  and  as  soon  as  Jack  was  on  his  feet,  they 
cried,  "At  him,  Jack  —  give  it  to  him,  right  and 
left !  "  Jack  squared  off  to  give  Harvey  a  blow. 
"  '  Strike,  but  hear  me/  as  said  one  of  the  old 
philosophers,"  said  Harvey,  now  perfectly  cool  and 
self-collected.  Another  person  had  witnessed  the 
encounter,  and  now  stepped  between  the  combatants. 

"How    is     this!"     exclaimed     Mr.    Warren. 


40  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

u  Fighting  on  the  play-ground  !  Harvey  Amadore, 
why  did  you  throw  John  Jimson  to  the  ground  ?  I 
had  hoped  better  things  of  you." 

"  He  insulted  and  threatened  me,"  replied  Har 
vey  ;  "  and  I  let  temper  get  the  better  of  me,  and 
threw  him  down." 

"  And,  Jimson,  how  did  you  provoke  the  attack?  " 

Jack  was  sullen  and  silent. 

"  Answer  me  at  once,"  said  Mr.  Warren. 
"  How  did  you  provoke  Harvey?" 

"  I  was  saucy  to  him,  and  threatened  to  give  him 
a  threshing,"  blurted  out  the  bully. 

"  Well,  then,  beg  Harvey's  pardon,  at  once," 
said  the  master. 

"  He  ought  to  beg  mine,"  said  Jack,  pouting  his 
big  lips. 

u  You  were  the  first  offender  ;  you  ought  to  make 
the  first  acknowledgment,"  replied  Mr.  "Warren, 
decidedly. 

"  Mr.  Amadore,  I  beg  your  pardon,  and  grant 
your  grace,  &c.,  &c.,"  said  Jack. 

u  I  am  sorry  and  ashamed  to  have  been  so  hasty 
and  so  angry.  I  trust  you'll  forgive  me,  Jack, 
and  you,  too,  Mr.  Warren.  I  have  a  fiery  temper, 
not  always  under  my  control,"  said  Harvey,  whose 
anger  had  passed  like  a  falling  star,  leaving  no 
trace  behind. 

Mr.  Warren  regarded  the  frank  countenance  of 
the  noble  boy  with  admiration,  and  said,  — 


THE    BLACK    BEAR.  41 

"  I  hope  you  will  learn  to  control  your  temper, 
Harvey  ;  and  you.  Jack  Jimson,  never  say  a  saucy 
word  to  Harvey  again,  or  threaten  any  one  on  the 
play-ground.  I  must  have  peace  and  brotherly 
kindness  among  my  boys.  Remember,  Harvey, 
1  He  that  ruleth  his  spirit  is  greater  than  he  that 
taketh  a  city.'  " 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

THE   BLACK  BEAR. 

HARVEY  AMADORE  was  troubled  in  conscience. 
Ought  he  to  allow  the  boys  to  commit  the  threat 
ened  theft?  Whom  should  he  consult?  He  had 
promised  not  to  tell  Mr.  Warren. 

He  at  last  resolved  to  learn  where  Debby  lived, 
and  tell  her  not  to  put  her  turkeys  where  they  could 
be  purloined. 

At  tea  time  the  evening  after  the  scuffle  in  the 
play-ground,  Mr.  Warren  was  absent.  Mrs.  War 
ren  said  he  had  gone  to  pass  the  night  with  a  cleri 
cal  friend  in  a  neighboring  village. 

The  boys,  as  usual,  staid  some  time  with  Mrs. 
Warren  after  tea,  and  then,  as  they  were  about  to 
leave  for  the  library,  she  said  to  Harvey,  "  I  will 
give  you  a  spelling  lesson  this  evening,  if  you  prefer 
it  to  any  other  amusement." 


42  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Harvey  ;  "I  do  prefer  it  to 
anything  else  I  could  do  just  now  ;  for  Mr.  War 
ren  says  I  must  not  study  Greek  or  Latin  till  I  can 
spell  my  own  language  correctly." 

As  soon  as  the  other  boys  had  left  the  room, 
Mrs.  Warren  commenced  the  spelling  lesson. 

"  Spell  turkey"  said  she. 

"  Turky." 

"  No  —  turkey.     Form  the  plural  now.''' 

"  Turkies." 

"  No  —  turkeys.     Now  spell  Dcbly" 

Harvey  opened  wide  his  large  hazel  eyes.  Mrs. 
Warren  laughed  merrily,  and  said,  "  Now  spell 
thieves." 

Harvey  was  too  much  surprised  to  spell,  and 
Mrs.  Warren  said,  "  I  will  come  directly  to  the 
point.  I  walked  witli  my  husband  to  the  station 
this  afternoon.  On  my  return,  I  was  fatigued,  and 
sat  down  to  rest  on  a  large  stone  by  the  wayside. 
There  was  a  high  board-fence  behind  me,  which 
enclosed  the  grounds  of  a  farmer,  who  sends  his 
son  to  our  school.  I  immediately  recognized  the 
voice  of  Jack  Jimson,  who  was  consulting  about  a 
raid  upon  Debby  Hobbs's  turkeys.  She  lives  just 
by  the  Monkton  woods,  and  the  time  appointed  for 
their  wicked  spree  was  eleven  o'clock  to-night. 
Now  tell  me  frankly  all  you  know  about  it,  Har 
vey.  From  what  I  could  learn,  Jack  was  afraid 
Harvey  Amadore  would  betray  them,  and  having 


THE,    BLACK    BEAR.  43 

learned  that  Mr.  Warren  would  be  absent  to-night, 
he  thought  it  best  to  hurry  matters  to  a  conclusion." 

"  I  know  very  little  more  about  their  plan  than 
you  do.  It  was  my  intention  to  warn  the  woman 
to  take  good  care  of  her  turkeys  ;  but  I  am  too  late 
for  that.  They  intend  to  have  a  barbecue  in  the 
woods  —  to  roast  the  turkey.  I  doubt  if  they 
would  be  able  to  eat  it,  unless  they  like  smoked  tur 
key,"  said  Harvey,  laughing. 

"  We  will  catch  them  !  "  exclaimed  young  Mrs. 
Warren,  clapping  her  small  hands  with  real  girlish 
glee.  "  My  plan  is  this.  After  the  boys  have  gone 
to  bed,  or  pretended  to  go,  I  will  walk  down  to 
Debby's  with  Clarence  Rose.  Find  an  opportunity 
to  send  him  to  me  before  he  goes  to  his  room. 
You  must  watch  for  their  leaving,  and  soon  after 
go  with  Thomas  to  the  woods.  I  will  instruct 
Thomas  just  what  to  do,  and  you  will  follow  his 
directions.  Meantime,  you  must  be  careful  not  to 
excite  suspicion  when  you  join  Jack  and  Stackpole 
in  the  library.  Go,  now  ;  you  have  had  your  spell 
ing  lesson." 

It  was  the  first  week  in  October.  The  evening 
was  cool,  but  not  a  cloud  veiled  the  bright  hemi 
sphere.  The  silver  moon  —  "sweet  regent  of  the 
sky  "  —  followed  the  king  of  day  to  his  western  re 
treat,  leaving  night  to  be  ruled  by  the  glittering 
stars.  Mrs.  Warren  and  Clarence,  about  nine 
o'clock,  went  to  Debby's  cottage. 


44  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

Harvey  sat  by  the  one  window  of  his  small  room, 
intently  listening  for  the  first  movement  of  Jack 
Jimson,  whose  room  was  next  to  his  own.  The 
part  of  the  house  occupied  by  the  boys  had  been 
added  to  the  main  building ;  it  was  a  single  story, 
and  the  windows  were  only  about  half  a  dozen  feet 
from  the  ground. 

About  half  past  ten  o'clock  two  windows  were 
carefully  opened,  and  two  boys  sprang  out  of  them, 
and  scampered  away  as  if  for  dear  life.  Stackpole 
joined  the  fire-makers,  while  Jack  made  his  way  to 
Debby's  cottage. 

"  Don't  make  a  breath  of  noise,"  whispered  Jack 
to  his  companion,  the  farmer's  boy,  as  they  ap 
proached  the  cottage. 

The  shed  in  which  the  lone  woman  kept  her  tur 
keys,  when  they  were  ready  for  market,  was  only  a 
few  steps  from  the  kitchen  door,  and  directly  opposite. 

Slyly,  noiselessly,  glided  Jack  into  the  shed,  and 
reaching  up  seized  a  turkey  by  the  neck.  Suddenly 
his  feet  were  caught  in  a  slip-noose  of  rope,  and 
a  strong  pull  from  the  three  in  the  kitchen  brought 
him  at  full  length  into  the  cottage,  the  turkey  still 
IQ  hand. 

Debby  was  a  strong,  masculine-looking  woman. 
With  the  end  of  the  rope  she  gave  Jack  several 
severe  whacks  across  his  shoulders. 

He  shrieked,  and  let  the  turkey  slip  from  his  hand. 

"  Now  you  may  go,  wicked  boy  that  you  are," 


THE    BLACK    BEAR.  45 

said  Debby,  while  Mrs.  Warren  and  Clarence 
laughed  heartily. 

"  Go.  I  see  now  who  has  stolen  my  chicken 
and  eggs,  and  pay  for  them  you  must  and  shall," 
2ried  she,  furiously. 

Jack  tried  to  rise,  but  the  rope  was  still  about  his 
feet. 

"  Don't  you  feel  mean,"  continued  Debby,  as  he 
tried  to  extricate  himself,  "  great,  big,  unmannerly, 
lubberly  boy?" 

"  I'll  pay  you,  I'll  pay  you  ;  let  me  go,"  cried  Jack. 

"  Let  me  see.  Eggs,  sixty  cents  for  three  score  ; 
chicken,  forty  cents  —  just  one  dollar.  Pay  me 
and  you  may  go." 

"  I  haven't  the  money  with  me,"  whimpered  the 
bully. 

"  I'll  lend  it  to  you,"  said  Clarence,  taking  a 
bright  dollar  from  his  green  purse. 

"That's  right,  Clarence,"  said  Mrs.  Warren. 
"  Now,  Jack,  we'll  go  home." 

"Mayn't  I  go  and  speak  to  the  other  boys?" 
asked  Jack,  dolorously. 

"  No.  I  prefer  to  have  your  company,"  said 
Mrs.  Warren  ;  and  the  three,  bidding  Debby  "  good 
night,"  left  the  cottage  together. 

About  a  quarter  of  an  hour  after  Jack  and  Stack- 
pole  had  started  on  their  mischievous  expedition, 
Thomas,  a  steady,  honest  servant,  much  relied 
upon  by  Mr.  Warren,  tapped  at  the  window  where 
Harvey  was  on  the  qui  vive. 


46  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

u  What  is  that  across  your  shoulders,"  asked 
Harvey,  as  he  joined  Thomas. 

"  Why,  it's  a  big  buffalo  skin  we  used  on  our 
sleigh  last  winter,"  Avas  the  reply. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  it,  Thomas?" 
eagerly  asked  Harvey. 

"  You  will  see  when  we  get  near  them,  young 
scamps.  We  must  go  very  softly,  and  keep  well 
behind  the  trees,  till  we  come  near  their  camp." 

As  they  approached  the  wood,  Thomas  said,  "  I 
see  a  smoke  rising.  They'll  have  tough  work  to 
get  up  a  roasting  fire.  But  they  really  have  got  up 
a  blaze,"  continued  he,  in  a  whisper,  as  they  came 
near  the  spot  where  Stackpole  and  a  half  dozen 
other  boys  were  piling  dry  branches  upon  a  fire, 
which  crackled  and  sent  forth  a  fitful  flame. 

"  Now's  the  time.  Stand  behind  that  big  tree, 
Master  Harvey." 

So  saying,  Tom  spread  the  big  buffalo  skin  over 
himself,  and  dropped  upon  all  fours.  Then  he 
crept  softly  along  till  he  came  near  the  group  about 
the  fire,  when  he  set  up  a  tremendous  growl.  The 
boys  turned  towards  the  place  from  which  the 
ominous  sound  proceeded,  and  there,  by  the  light 
of  the  fire,  they  beheld,  as  they  thought,  a  big 
black  bear. 

The  guilty  are  cowardly.  What  a  scampering 
and  shrieking !  Some  ran  one  wray  and  some 
another.  The  bear  pursued  Stackpole,  growling 


THE    BLACK    BEAR.  47 

fearfully,  till  the  boy  stumbled  and  fell.  Just  as 
the  bear  reached  him,  and  was  sniffing  about  his 
head,  a  voice  cried,  "  Mithter  Bear,  don't  take  off 
hith  thcalp  ;  pay  don't !  " 

Mrs.  Warren,  Jack,  and  Clarence  had  just  ar 
rived  to  witness  the  scene.  - 

Stackpole  was  too  much  frightened  even  to  recog 
nize  the  lisping  voice  of  Clarence.  He  verily  be 
lieved  it  was  the  horrible  bear  that  Jack  had  de 
scribed. 

Thomas  threw  off  the  buffalo-skin,  and  picking 
up  Stackpole,  said,  "  Stand  up  on  your  two  feet. 
I've  done  up  bear  pretty  well ;  haven't  I,  Mrs.  War 
ren."  Meantime,  Harvey  had  been  busily  occu 
pied  in  pulling  apart  the  branches  on  the  fire,  and 
trying  to  extinguish  it,  for  it  was  in  danger  of 
spreading,  the  grass  and  leaves  being  quite  dry. 

All  were  now  obliged  to  aid  in  stamping  out  the 
flames,  as  they  crinkled  along ;  and  the  fire  would 
have  been  a  very  dangerous  one,  if  it  had  not  been 
for  Harvey's  presence  of  mind  and  active  exertions. 

The  clock  struck  one  just  as  the  party  from  the 
parsonage  reached  home. 

Stackpole  had  scarcely  recovered  his  wits,  and 
Jack  Jimson  slunk  away  to  his  own  room,  morti 
fied  and  provoked,  but  not  penitent. 


48  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

CHAPTER    IX. 

EEPROOF. 

THE  next  day,  when  Mr.  Warren  returned  home, 
Mrs.  Warren  gave  him  a  laughable  account  of  the 
doings  of  the  preceding  night. 

"My  dear,"  said  he,  "  I  think  in  this  case  pre 
vention  would  have  been  better  than  cure.  You 
might  have  taken  authority  upon  yourself  in  my 
absence,  arid  given  those  boys  a  severe  lecture." 

"  But  the  other  boys,  the  day-scholars,  would 
have  done  the  mischief  without  Jack  and  Stack- 
pole,"  urged  the  young  wife. 

"You  might  have  sent  Thomas  to  give  Debby 
warning,"  suggested  the  husband,  gravely. 

"  Now  don't  take  it  so  seriously,  Albertus  ;  boys 
will  be  boys,  and  it  may  be  well  to  overlook  the 
offence." 

"  Boys  will  be  boys.  How  frequently  that  means, 
sinners  will  be  sinners.  No  excuse,  however,  is  it 
for  the  sins  they  commit." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  have  displeased  you,"  said  the 
little  lady,  with  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"  Do  not  make  yourself  unhappy  about  the  affair, 
Maria.  Yours  was  an  error  in  judgment,  pardon 
able  in  one  so  young  and  inexperienced ;  but  I 


REPROOF.  49 

trust  you  will,  in  future,  by  a  more  distant  reserve, 
gain  and  keep  the  respect  of  our  pupils.  I  like  to 
have  you  lively  and  bright ;  but  at  the  same  time, 
you  should  maintain  the  dignity  of  a  matron  and  a 
clergyman's  wife." 

"  And  you  will  forgive  me,  and  the  boys,  too, — 
there's  a  dear  good  man,"  said  she,  in  her  most 
winning  way.  "  They  need  not  know  that  you 
have  heard  a  word  about  it,"  she  continued,  with 
an  appealing  look  that  the  fond  husband  could  not 
resist. 

"  Well,  be  it  so.  I  must  not  even  reprimand 
Thomas  for  the  part  he  took  in  the  farce  —  say  you 
so,  wife  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  you  must  not ;  for  he  acted  entirely 
according  to  my  orders.  Clarence  had  told  me  a 
wondrous  tale  of  a  bear,  related  to  him  by  Jack 
Jimson.  On  that  hint  I  acted." 

Mrs.  Warren,  whose  feelings  were  as  quick  and 
variable  as  the  motions  of  a  wind-tossed  leaf,  now 
laughed  heartily,  as  she  thought  of  the  appearance 
and  fierce  growling  of  the  redoubtable  Thomas. 

Mr.  Warren  could  not  be  as  severe  upon  his 
pretty  young  wife  as  he  thought  her  enjoyment  of 
the  last  night's  adventures  demanded,  and  wisely 
decided  that  he  would  keep  a  stricter  watch  over 
the  boys  than  he  had  done  hitherto. 

Mrs.  Warren  had  a  long  talk  with  the  foar  boys 
in  the  library  that  evening.  She  assumed  a  won- 
4 


50  TRUE'  MANLINESS. 

derfully  dignified  manner,  and  told  them  she  had 
come  to  give  them  a  severe  lecture,  which  was  to 
be  their  punishment.  u  That  is,"  said  she,  "  the 
punishment  justly  merited  by  Jack  and  Stackpole." 

"It  is  punishment  enough  to  be  associated  with 
such  mean  fellows  as  Harvey  Amadore  and  Clanth 
Wothe,."  said  Jack,  impertinently.  "  I  always  de 
spised  telltales." 

"  So  did  I,"  echoed  the  toady. 

It  was  somewhat  difficult  for  the  young  matron 
to  maintain  her  assumed  dignity.  She  was  ready 
to  laugh  ;  but  controlling  herself,  she  said,  — 

"  I  "suppose  you  are  so  honorable  that  you  don't 
like  eavesdroppers,  either.  But  I,  unfortunately, 
must  confess  to  the  odious  character.  I  happened, 
accidentally,  to  overhear  your  whole  plan  for  the 
last  night's  raid ;  and,  therefore,  you  must  not  ac 
cuse  either  Harvey  or  Clarence  of  being  a  telltale. 
I  told  them  much  more  than  they  knew  about  the 
affair  from  you.  Indeed,  you  must  be  very  sorry 
for  what  has  happened,  and  be  more  circumspect  for 
the  future." 

Having  thus  discharged  what  she  believed  to  be 
her  duty,  Mrs.  Warren  went  to  her  husband's  study 
to  give  him  an  account  of  her  success.  He  was 
much  amused,  but  shook  his  head  doubtfully  when 
she  boasted  of  her  grave  and  almost  overwhelming 
dignity  of  manner. 

The  guilty  boys  wondered  much  from  day  to  day 


REPROOF.  51 

why  they  received  no  reprimand  from  Mr.  Warren. 
At  length  they  concluded  that  Mrs.  Warren  had 
her  own  private  reasons  for  not  informing  the  mas 
ter  of  the  affair.  Occasionally,  on  the  play-ground, 
Jack  and  Stackpole  would  be  saluted  by  some  of 
the  other  boys  with  a  growl,  which  made  them  very 
angry.  It  was  evident  that  every  boy  in  the  school 
knew  all  about  the  adventures  of  that  memorable 
evening,  for,  besides  growling,  they  sometimes  gob 
bled  like  a  turkey-cock.  Bully  Jack  seemed  to  have 
quite  forgotten  the  dollar  Clarence  loaned  to  him 
for  Debby ;  but  his  being  a  debtor  probably  ac 
counted  for  his  keeping  very  shy  of  Clarence  for  a 
while,  and  for  his  desisting  from  teasing  the  deli 
cate  boy,  as  he  had  previously  done  —  a  forbear 
ance  that  was  very  gratifying  to  Clarence. 

This  forbearance,  however,  was  not  of  long  dura 
tion,  judging  from  the  following  letter  from  Clar 
ence  to  Mrs.  Rose  :  — 

RACEVILLE,  November  10,  IS—. 

DEAR  MAMMA  :  I.  wish  I  didn't  cry  so  easily. 
You  know  I  can't  help  it.  I  think  that  is  one  rea 
son  why  the  boys  tease  me  so  cruelly. 

The  other  night  —  it  was  last  week  —  I  was  in 
bed  fast  asleep,  when  suddenly  a  shower  of  cold 
water  came  upon  my  face,  and  startled  me  out  of 
bed.  My  window  by  some  means  had  been  opened 
far  enough  to  put  in  a  big  syringe.  Jack  Jimson 
and  Stackpole  Clap  were  spirting  the  water  over 


52  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

me  ;  and  when  I  begged  them  not  to  do  it,  they  only 
kept  on  the  more.  They  stood  on  a  couple  of 
chairs  below  the  window,  and  could  look  in  upon 
me,  for  it  was  moonlight.  I  begged  them  to  stop, 
over  and  over  again,  and  couldn't  help  crying ;  but 
Jack  only  said,  u  Don't  waste  so  much  salt  water 
when  you  have  plenty  of  fresh  water." 

I  said,  "  I  shall  tell  Mr.  Warren  of  this." 

Jack  said,  u  If  you  do,  it  will  be  the  worse  for 
you.  We'll  torment  you  the  more."  And  Stack- 
pole  added,  "  Yes,  we'll  worry  your  very  life  out  if 
you  complain  of  us." 

Then  they  went  off,  and  I,  shivering  and  shaking, 
lighted  my  candle,  for  I  have  matches  in  my  room, 
and  got  on  some  dry  night-clothes.  Then  I 
wrapped  myself  up  in  a  blanket  that  wasn't  wet, 
and  after  a  while  I  got  to  sleep.  The  next  morning 
I  had  a  cold  in  my  head,  but  to-day  I  feel  quite 
well. 

I  cry  in  school  sometimes,  and  then  the  boys 
make  up  hideous  faces  at  me,  and  draw  caricatures 
of  me  with  what  they  call  my  "  square  mouth." 
It  seems,  when  I  cry,  that  I  open  my  mouth  wide, 
and  in  some  queer  shape. 

Don't  you  think,  dear  mamma,  they  are  awfully 
cruel  ? 

I  don't  know  what  I  should  do  if  Harvey  Ama- 
dore  were  not  here.  He  protects  me  as  much  as 
he  can ;  but  I  am  afraid  to  tell  him  of  a  great 


REPROOF.  53 

many  things,  for  fear  they  should  know  it  and  make 
the  matter  worse. 

The  day-scholars  almost  all  make  fun  of  me,  and 
on  the  play-ground  they  will  not  choose  me  when 
they  take  sides  for  base-ball  or  shinney.  They  say 
I  am  such  a  gal-boy  they  don't  want  me  ;  and  so  I 
am  obliged  to  stand  on  one  side  looking  on,  and 
feeling  like  a  little  fool. 

I  do  wish  you  would  let  me  come  home.  It 
don't  seem  to  me  that  I  can  stay  here  any  longer. 
I've  thought  a  hundred  times  that  I  would  run  away. 

Do  ask  papa  if  I  may  come  home.  I  really  don't 
care  whether  I  get  an  education  or  not.  You  know, 
dear  mamma,  we  are  rich  enough,  and  I  think  I 
already  know  enough  for  a  gentleman  ;  and  I  should 
like  to  be  a  merchant,  and  make  money,  as  papa  has, 
and  then  I  am  sure  nobody  would  laugh  at  me. 

Now,  please,  dear  mamma,  ask  papa  if  I  may 
come  home  and  go  into  his  counting-room.  What 
is  the  use  of  so  much  learning  unless  I  meant  to  be 
a  minister  or  a  lawyer  ?  Do  coax  papa  to  let  me 
give  up  my  studies.  I  know  you  will  feel  very 
sorry  for  your  poor  CLARENCE. 

P.  S.  I  wish  you  would  send  me  a  nice  parcel 
of  cake  and  candies.  We  have  plenty  to  eat,  but 
sometimes,  when  I  feel  very  sad,  I  should  like 
something  sweet  and  good,  especially  when  I  am  in 
my  own  room  at  night. 


54  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

CHAPTER    X. 

MORE  MISCHIEF. 

CLARENCE  stood  in  need  of  sympathy,  and  yet  so 
hard-hearted  were  the  boys,  generally,  that  he  re 
ceived  very  little.  To  Harvey,  under  an  injunction 
of  secrecy,  he  communicated  the  affair  about  which 
he  had  written  to  his  mother.  They  were  sitting 
together  in  Harvey's  room,  when  they  had  the  fol 
lowing  chat : — 

"  Now,  Clarence,  let  me  advise  you  not  to  allow 
the  boys  to  see  that  you  mind  their  teasing.  Put 
on  a  brave  face,  and  try  to  have  a  brave  heart,  too. 
Don't  let  them  see  you  cry,  if  you  can  possibly  help 
it.  They  enjoy  calling  you  cry-baby.  I  am  really 
attached  to  you,  Clarence,  and  if  it  were  right  I 
would  fight  every  one  of  them  for  insulting  you, 
because  I  consider  you  my  friend.  I  have  prom 
ised  Mr.  Warren  not  to  get  into  a  quarrel  with 
Jack  and  Stackpole ;  and  I  know  it  would  be 
wrong ;  but  the  old  Adam  is  so  strong,  or,  rather, 
the  old  Cain,  that  I  am  tempted  to  give  them  a 
good  drubbing." 

"  I  with  you  would,"  said  Clarence,  doubling  up 
his  small  fist  and  grinding  his  pretty  teeth. 

Harvey  laughingly  replied,  "  You  would  do  it  if 


MORE    MISCHIEF.  55 

you  could,  it  seems ;  but  no,  Clarence,"  he  con 
tinued,  "  that  is  not  the  proper  way  to  resent  an 
injury ;  it  is  contrary  to  my  principles  and  to  my 
better  feelings.  But  rely  upon  me  as  your  friend, 
and  I  promise  to  do  all  for  you  as  a  friend  that  lies  in 
my  power,  without  doing  what  I  know  to  be  wrong." 

"  But  they  do  fight  in  English  cools"  urged  Clar 
ence. 

4 '  It  is  a  barbarous  custom,"  was  the  reply,  "and 
they  have  fags,  too,  whom  they  treat  unmercifully. 
You  would  fare  worse  in  one  of  those  large  English 
schools  than  you  do  here.  Very  few  boys  are  as 
comfortable  at  school  as  we  are  —  there  are  so  few 
of  us,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Warren  are  so  very  kind." 

"  I  think  it  a  cruel  thing  anyhow,  to  thend  a  boy 
away  from  home,"  said  Clarence,  dolorously. 

"  Why,  we  have  got  to  mingle  with  all  sorts  of 
men  when  we  get  to  be  men  ourselves,  and  we 
should  not  be  fit  for  the  strife  —  the  rough  and 
tumble  of  the  world  —  if  we  were  always  coddled 
up  at  home.  Come,  come,  as  Longfellow  says,  — 

'  In  the  world's  broad  field  of  battle, 

In  the  bivouac  of  life, 
Be  not  like  dumb,  driven  cattle  — 
Be  a  hero  in  the  strife.'  " 

"  I  never  thall  be  a  hero,  only  one  like  Mithter 
Horner,  '  who  sat  in  the  corner/  "  said  Clarence, 
merrily. 


56  •  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

"And  you  had  rather  pull  plums  out  of  a 
mince-pie,  and  cry,  '  What  a  big  boy  arn  I?'  than 
attend  to  your  studies  here,  although  you  may  have 
some  rough  treatment,  and  become  a  strong  and  a 
good  man.  Every  man  who  is  truly  wise  and  truly 
good  is,  in  my  opinion,  a  hero." 

Here  the  bell  rang  for  evening  prayers,  and  the 
boys  hastened  to  the  parlor.  Neither  Jack  nor 
Stackpole  was  there,  and  after  waiting  some  min 
utes,  Mr.  Warren  commenced  reading  a  chapter  in 
the  Bible,  and  before  it  was  finished  the  two  boys 
came  stealing  in,  with  a  guilty  look.  It  was  evi 
dent  they  had  been  in  some  mischief.  And  so  they 
had. 

For  some  time  past  they  had  been  planning  how 
they  could  break  up  the  intimacy  between  Harvey 
and  Clarence.  They  could  not,  bad  and  mean  as 
they  were  —  they  could  not  but  respect  Harvey 
Amadore.  He  was  an  excellent  scholar.  They 
knew  him  to  be  brave.  Not  only  had  he  physical 
courage,  and,  if  he  thought  it  right,  could  fight  like 
a  young  savage,  but  he  had  moral  courage.  When 
he  thought  himself  doing  his  duty,  ridicule  had  no 
more  effect  upon  him  than  it  would  have  upon  a 
bright  star.  He  was  as  much  above  it  as  that 
same  star  —  a  rare  thing,  especially  among  boys. 
Besides,  he  was  generous,  —  a  very  popular  virtue, 
—  and  remarkably  good  natured,  though  quick  tem 
pered.  With  the  day-scholars  he  was  a  universal 


MORE    MISCHIEF.  67 

favorite,  and  under  the  broad  shelter  of  his  friend 
ship  Clarence  was  protected  from  many  an  insult. 

Now,  Jack  and  Stackpolc  determined  to  break 
up  this  friendship.  They  knew  they  could  not  do  it 
by  talking  against  Clarence,  or  by  striving  more 
than  ever  to  render  him  ridiculous.  And  so  they 
contrived  an  infamous  plan  for  the  purpose. 

They  wrote  a  letter,  addressed  to  Mrs.  Rose,  in 
which  Harvey  was  mentioned  as  a  hypocrite. 

"He  pretends,"  they  wrote,  "to  be  very  pious, 
and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Warren  don't  see  through  him ; 
but  I,  who  know  him  better,  I  do.  He  is  all  out 
side  show.  I  keep  on  good  terms  with  him,  be 
cause  it  is  for  my  interest.  He  is  a  sort  of  protec 
tion  to  me,  because  he  is  so  much  bigger  and 
stronger  than  I  am ;  but  as  for  believing  in  his 
religion,  I  say,  mamma,  I  don't  believe  in  it  at  all ; 
and  when  I  can  get  a  chance  I  shall  shake  him  off, 
for  I  do  despise  hypocrites,  or  hypricots,  as  you 
know  I  used  to  write  the  word. 

"  I  believe,  too,  Harvey  is  of  very  mean  origin, 
not  a  bit  of  a  gentleman,  as  I  am,  for  he  wears  the 
meanest  clothes  that  ever  you  saw. 

"Now,  dear  mamma,  this  is  a  secret  between  our 
selves.  I  would  not  have  you  let  it  out  for  the 
world,  for  I  must  for  a  while  longer  keep  on  good 
terms  with  the  fellow. 

"  I  am,  my  dear  mamma,  your  loving 

"  CLARENCE." 


* 

58  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

As  soon  as  the  boys  left  the  library,  after  prayers, 
Stackpolc  followed  Harvey  to  his  room,  and  told 
him  that  he  found  that  letter  on  the  play-ground, 
and  supposed  it  had  been  dropped  there.  It  was 
not  directed,  nor  scaled,  and  for  that  reason  he  and 
Jack  Jimson  had  read  it.  Finding  it  concerned 
Harvey,  they  decided  it  was  best  to  hand  it  to  him. 

"  Concerns  me  !  "  exclaimed  Harvey. 

"  Yes,  indeed.     I  leave  you  to  read  it." 

As  there  was  no  address  upon  the  outside  of 
the  letter,  Harvey  thought  it  might  be  intended  for 
him,  and  read  it  with  absolute  amazement.  Could 
it  be  possible  that  his  friend  was  so  despicably 
mean  and  false  ?  The  handwriting  was  Clarence's, 
as  well  as  the  signature.  Long  did  he  ponder  over 
that  base  letter,  and  hours  passed  before  he  could 
compose  himself  to  sleep. 

In  the  morning  Harvey  examined  the  letter  more 
carefully.  He  at  length  concluded  that  he  would 
offer  it  to  Clarence  without  a  word  of  explanation. 
He  did  so  immediately  after  breakfast ;  and  the 
utter  amazement  of  Clarence,  on  reading  it,  was 
not  counterfeited.  It  was  unmistakably  perfectly 
natural. 

"Who  could  have  done  it?  Who  could  have 
done  it?"  he  exclaimed,  his  eyes  filling  with  tears. 

Harvey  then  told  him  how  he  had  received  it, 
and  the  story  that  was  told  about  it. 

u  O,   what   a   wicked,  wicked   lie !     I  will   tell 


MORE    MISCHIEF.  59 

them  tho  to  their  faitheth,"  said  Clarence,  weeping 
violently.  "  They  would  rob  ine  of  my  friend." 

"  No,  Clarence,  they  .will  not.  I  will  accuse 
them  of  this  forgery,  for  forgery  it  really  is.  It 
will  be  better  for  you  to  keep  quiet  about  it." 

"  How  can  I !  How  can  I !  "  sobbed  the  heart- 
wounded  boy. 

There  was  always  an  hour  for  recreation  before 
school  on  the  play-ground. 

Harvey  took  the  two  villanous  boys  aside,  and 
said,  in  an  assured  and  angry  tone,  — 

"What  could  have  tempted  you  to  write  this 
abominable  letter?" 

"I  write  it!  How  dare  you  accuse  me?"  ex 
claimed  Jack. 

"Or  me  either?"  added  Stackpole,  in  a  tremu 
lous  voice. 

"  Now,  boys,  if  you  don't  confess  it  at  once,  I 
will  carry  the  letter  directly  to  Mr.  Warren,  and  he 
will  settle  the  matter  with  you.  It  is  a  forgery, 
and  the  probability  is,  he  will  expel  you  from  school." 

Stackpole's  crimson  face  and  trembling  limbs  be 
trayed  his  guilt,  while  Jack's  brazen  countenance 
assumed  an  air  of  defiance. 

Harvey  turned  from  them,  and  took  a  few  steps 
towards  the  house,  while  a  whispered  consultation 
was  going  on  between  the  two  partners  in  wicked 
ness. 

"  Stop  a  minute.  Let  me  see  the  letter,"  cried 
Jack. 


60  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

Harvey  said,  calmly,  "  Not  till  you  acknowl 
edge  that  you  wrote  it." 

"  Then  I'll  take  it  from  you.  Hold  him,  Stack- 
pole."  But  Stackpole  held  off. 

"  Coward  !  "  exclaimed  Jack,  looking  at  his  com 
peer  with  extreme  disgust  and  contempt. 

Harvey  stood  unmoved,  his  eye  fixed  upon  Jack 
boldly  and  resolutely.  Jack  knew  his  strength  and. 
his  courage,  and  did  not  attempt  to  take  the  letter 
from  him  by  force. 

"  You  acknowledge  the  forgery  in  action  if  not 
in  words  ;  why  else  should  you  be  so  anxious  to  take 
it  from  me  ?  Besides,  you  have  not  yet  learned  from 
me  its  contents.  How  guilt  betrays  itself  !  Look 
at  Stackpole  as  he  stands  there,  the  very  image  of 
guilt  itself." 

"  I  didn't  write  it ;  he  did,"  blurted  out  Stackpole. 

"  Mean,  despicable  fool !  "  exclaimed  Jack. 

"  Now,  boys,  perhaps  I  ought  to  expose  you  to 
Mr.  Warren ;  but  I  am  sorry  for  you  —  so  young 
and  so  wicked.  What  will  you  come  to  ?  I  beg 
of  you  to  reflect  upon  your  conduct,  and  to  repent 
of  it.  I  forgive  you,  and  so  will  Clarence ;  but 
you  must  ask  forgiveness  of  God." 

So  saying,  Harvey  took  the  letter  from  his  pock 
et,  tore  it  to  atoms,  and  scattered  it  to  the  wind. 

The  two  boys  slunk  away  to  a  corner  of  the 
play-ground,  abashed  before  the  courage  and  man 
liness  of  their  honest  school-fellow. 


A    SUDDEN    CHANGE.  61 

CHAPTER    XI. 

A  SUDDEN  CHANGE. 

EARLY  in  December  the  'boys  were  having  their 
first  snow-balling  on  the  play- ground. 

Though  wrapped  up  warmly,  and  wearing  kid 
gloves,  Clarence  shivered,  and  complained  bitterly 
of  the  cold.  His  delicate  frame  had  not  been 
inured  to  hardship  of  any  kind. 

The  play-ground  was  on  one  side  of  the  parson 
age.  A  large  gate  opened  upon  the  main  road,  and. 
from,  the  gate  a  carriage-way  led  to  the  house 
through  the  grounds.  A  market-cart  with  a  scrag 
gy,  miserable  screw  of  a  horse,  driven  by  a  woman, 
entered  the  gate,  and  passing  through  the  play 
ground,  stopped  in  front  of  the  house. 

"  There's  crow's-meat,"  exclaimed  Jack  Jimson. 

"  You  mean  the  north  ;  but  what  doth  the  woman 
driving  the  rack  o'  boneth  look  like  ? "  said  Clar 
ence,  laughing  immoderately. 

"  Very  like  a  scare-crow,"  was  the  saucy  reply. 

The  boys  had  now  gathered  in  a  cluster  near  the 
cart,  looking  on  with  curious  eyes  to  see  what  the 
woman  wanted. 

"  Poor  creature.  She  muth  have  come  to  beg, 
for  there  ith  nothing  in  the  cart,"  said  Clarence. 


62  TRUE    MAJfLIJfE&S. 

"  She  looktli  more  like  a  beggar  than  anything 
el th,"  added  Clarence. 

"  She  looks  like  a  respectable  woman,  as  she  is," 
whispered  Harvey.  "  Do  be  careful  not  to  make 
such  impertinent  remarks  ;  she  will  hear  you  ; "  then 
stepping  quickly  to  the  side  of  the  cart,  he  assisted 
the  woman  to  alight. 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  she  ;  then  looking  round 
upon  the  group  of  boys,  she  added,  "  I've  come  for 
my  son,  who  is  here  at  school  with  Mr.  Warren." 

"Your  son?  He  is  not  here.  There  are  only 
four  of  us  at  the  parsonage,"  said  Harvey,  as  he 
fastened  the  poor  horse  to  a  post. 

Meantime,  the  other  three  had  gathered  to  the  spot. 

The  boys  were  laughing  at  Harvey's  politeness 
to  the  meanly-dressed  woman.  She  surveyed  them 
attentively,  and  at  length  exclaimed,  — 

"Can  that  be  him?"  pointing  to  Jack  Jimson. 
"  I  wonder  if  he  will  own  his  mother." 

"  The  woman  must  be  beside  herself,"  thought 
Harvey,  as  she  advanced  towards  Jack,  and  holding 
out  her  hand,  said,  "Are  you  my  son?" 

"  A  good  joke  !  A  capital  joke  !  Your  son,  in 
deed  ! "  replied  Jack,  with  a  horse-laugh,  echoed 
by  Stackpole. 

"  My  son  is  called  Clarence  Rose,"  said  she,  in 
a  faltering  voice. 

At  this  they  set  up  a  shout ;  and  Jack,  seizing 
Clarence  by  the  waist,  with  both  hands  held  him 


You  arc  my  son,  then  !  "    Page  03. 


j3    SUDDEN    CHANGE.  63 

high  in  the  air,  saying,  "  This  dolly-boy  is  Clanth 
Wothe." 

"  Set  me  down,"  shrieked  Clarence.  "  Set  me 
down,  I  thay  !  " 

Jack  placed  the  shivering  boy  on  his  feet,  by  the 
side  of  the  woman,  who  looked  at  him  with  evident 
disappointment,  as  she  said, — 

u  You  are  my  son,  then.  You  are  a  pretty  little 
boy,  but  so  very  little  ?  Kiss  your  mother." 

Clarence  drew  back  frightened,  and  whispered  to 
Harvey,  "  The  woman  mutht  be  crazy." 

"  I  must  see  Mr.  Warren,  the  master,  right  off," 
said  she. 

"  Come  into  the  house ;  you  have  staid  too 
long  in  the  cold  already,"  said  Harvey,  kindly, 
leading  the  way,  and  showing  the  stranger  into  the 
parlor,  while  the  others  stood  without,  wondering 
much  at  this  mysterious  affair. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  this  woman  before,  Clar 
ence?"  asked  Stackpole. 

"  Never  in  my  life,"  was  the  reply. 

"  The  equipage  don't  quite  suit  the  style  of  the 
elegant  New  Yorker,  with  his  fiery-fine  trappings," 
said  Jack. 

At  this  moment  Mr.  Warren  opened  the  door, 
and  called  Clarence  to  come  in.  He  held  a  letter 
in  his  hand,  and  looked  very  soberly  as  he  gave 
another  letter  to  Clarence. 

"  I  ou^ht  to  have  received  these  letters  two  or 


G4  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

three  days  since,"  said  Mr.  Warren.  "  They  have 
been  unaccountably  delayed.  Take  yours  to  the 
library  and  read  it  by  yourself,  and  then  come  to 
me  in  the  parlor." 

Sure  enough,  the  letter  was  addressed  to  Master 
Clarence  Rose,  and  read  as  follows  :  — 

MY  DEAR  BOY  :  You  have  hitherto  considered 
yourself  my  son,  and  it  was  not  my  intention  to 
have  undeceived  you  till  you  came  of  age.  But 
misfortunes  have  come  upon  me  like  an  armed 
host.  I  am  a  bankrupt,  not  worth  a  dollar  in  the 
world,  and  I  must  now  give  you  up  to  your  own 
mother.  She  will  come  to  take  you  to  her  own 
home  a  few  days  after  this  reaches  you. 

My  wife  adopted  you  when  you  were  not  quite 
three  years  old,  and  has  been,  I  fear,  only  too 
tender  a  mother  to  you.  She  has  wept  many  hours 
at  the  loss  of  property  we  have  sustained,  but  more 
at  the  necessity  for  giving  up  her  petted  Clarence, 
all  unfitted,  as  he  is,  for  the  roughness  of  his  future 
life.  I  know  you  will  feel  the  change  keenly,  but  I 
trust  you  will  be  a  good,  obedient  son  to  your  poor 
but  honest  mother.  Your  "  mamma"  sends  tender- 
est  love  and  heartfelt  wishes  for  your  happiness ; 
she  will  write  to  you  herself,  when  her  feelings 
allow.  I  shall  never  cease  to  take  a  deep  interest 
in  your  welfare,  my  dear  Clarence. 
Faithfully  yours, 

SAMUEL  ROSE. 


A    SUDDEN    CHANGE.  65 

After  reading  this  astounding  letter,  Clarence 
was  like  one  who  had  received  a  stunning  blow 
physically.  He  seemed  not  able  to  speak  or  to  move. 

Mr.  Warren  came  to  him  at  length,  and  aroused 
him  from  this  stupor  by  telling  him  that  he  must 
make  immediate  preparations  to  leave  with  his 
mother,  Mrs.  Paverley.  She  was  now  taking  some 
refreshment  in  the  dining-room,  and  must  start  within 
an  hour  from  that  time.  Mr.  Warren  was  much 
moved  at  the  sight  of  the  wild  distress  of  Clarence. 

"  My  poor  boy,"  said  he,  "  it  will  be  a  great 
change  for  you  ;  but  God  has  ordered  it,  and  it  may 
prove  the  best  thing  that  could  have  befallen  you. 
It  depends  on  yourself  whether  you  make  the  best 
use  of  what  now  seems  to  you  adversity." 

Clarence  threw  himself  upon  a  sofa,  hid  his  face, 
and  sobbed  like  an  infant. 

"  Mr.  Rose  has  written  to  rne,"  continued  Mr. 
Warren.  "  He  has  explained  to  me  that  your 
mother  was  left  a  widow,  with  six  children,  without 
the  means  of  support,  and,  not  without  reluctance 
on  her  part,  gave  you  to  Mrs.  Rose,  on  condition 
that  you  should  be  given  back  to  your  own  mother, 
if  the  circumstances  of  your  adopted  parents  should 
change  for  the  worse.  Mr.  and  Mrs»  Rose  are 
going  to  California,  where  he  hopes  to  find  some 
employment.  You  have  now  a  motive  to  exertion, 
Clarence,  and  you  must  cheer  up  and  go  quietly 
with  your  mother." 
5 


66  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

Poor  Clarence  continued  to  weep  without  uttering 
a  word. 

"  Come,  ray  boy,  there  is  no  help  for  this  misfor 
tune,  as  you  consider  it.  Summon  up  resolution, 
and  go  with  me  to  pack  up  your  trunks." 

Mr.  Warren  led  the  weeping  boy  to  his  room, 
and  soon  his  luggage  was  ready  to  be  placed  in  the 
cart. 

Clarence  begged  Mr.  Warren  to  let  him  go  with 
out  taking  leave  of  his  schoolmates,  to  which  the 
master  consented,  but  led  him  to  the  dining-room  to 
see  Mrs.  Warren,  who  had  petted  and  indulged  the 
pretty  boy  almost  as  much  as  had  Mrs.  Rose. 

While  Mrs.  Paverley  was  enjoying  a  lunch,  the 
kind  young  wife  filled  a  basket  with  sandwiches  and 
doughnuts  for  refreshments  on  the  road  ;  and  when 
she  handed  it  to  Clarence  she  wept  so  vehemently 
that  she  could  scarcely  say  "  good  by."  He  could 
only  sob  out  the  word  "kind  —  kind." 

"  Poor  little  lad,  he  looks  sickly,"  said  his  mother. 

"  He  is  only  delicate,  a  hot-house  plant,  that  will 
require  care  and  consideration.  I  need  not  tell  his 
own  mother  to  treat  him  tenderly,"  said  Mr.  War 
ren. 

"  I  don't  know  what  I  shall  do  with  him.  He 
just  seems  fit  to  be  wrapped  up  in  wool,  like  a  young 
chicken  taken  from  the  old  hen,"  said  the  mother, 
dolefully: 

"  He  shall  be  wrapped  in  wool  to-day,"  said  Mr. 


A    SUDDEN    CHANGE.  67 

Warren,  smiling  ;  "  for  here  is  a  thick,  warm  blan 
ket,  my  good  wife  has  provided  for  him." 

The  big  trunks  almost  filled  the  market-cart. 
There  was  scarcely  room  for  the  board  in  front  on 
which  Mrs.  Paverley  and  Clarence  were  seated. 
Mr.  Warren  was  obliged  to  lift  the  weeping  boy 
into  the  cart,  and  to  put  the  blanket  around  him, 
as  he  bade  him  a  tender  farewell. 

The  miserable  horse  had  been  well  fed,  and  Mrs. 
Paverley,  taking  the  reins  in  her  hand,  started  him 
off  on  a  full  trot. 

"We've  got  twenty  mile  to  ride,  and  Patchy 
must  do  his  best,  or  we  shan't  be  home  to-night," 
said  she.  "  But  don't  cry  so,  my  son.  The  gentle 
man  says  you  were  baptized  Clarence  Rose,  and  I 
must  call  you  so,  though  your  real  name  was  Aza- 
riah  Paverley.  It  was  hard  times  with  me,  or  I 
should  not  have  parted  with  you.  I  had  six  then. 
God  has  taken  three  of  them  to  himself,  and  now  I 
have  only  Lucy,  Peter,  and  you.  I  hope  you  won't 
despise  us  because  we  are  poor.  You  know  it  is 
our  heavenly  Father  who  chooses  our  lot  for  us, 
and  he  docs  all  things  well." 

Clarence  had  not  yet  spoken  a  word,  though  they 
had  now  passed  over  half  a  dozen  miles. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  are  cold,"  continued  Mrs.  Pa 
verley,  drawing  her  thin  shawl  more  closely  around 
her.  u  Say,  my  son,  are  you  comfortable?  " 

"Yith." 


68  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

"What  did  you  say?" 

"  I  thaid  yith." 

Mrs.  Paverley  exclaimed,  "  Now  I  know  it's  my 
own  Azariah  ;  that  was  just  his  own  way  of  speak 
ing  when  he  was  that  pretty  white-headed  boy. 
Why,  you  are  old  enough  to  speak  plain.  You 
used  to  say,  '  I  faid  of  Wob.'  That  was  your 
oldest  brother,  who  used  to  tease  you.  Don't  you 
remember  him  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  remember  Rob/'  said  Clarence,  quite 
glibly. 

After  travelling  about  twelve  miles,  the  rack  of 
bones  called  Patchy  could  not  be  induced  to  move 
faster  than  a  walk,  and  finally  refused  to  stir 
another  step. 

The  air  grew  chill ;  a  sudden  snow  flurry  almost 
blinded  the  eyes  of  the  travellers,  and  night  was 
coming  on  rapidly.  They  were  more  than  a  mile 
from  any  dwelling-house. 

"What  are  we  to  do- now?"  asked  Clarence, 
mournfully. 

"  We  must  let  Patchy  rest  a  while,"  she  replied, 
with  her  teeth  chattering  and  her  face  blue  with  cold. 

u  You  are  very  cold,  marm ;  will  you  have  my 
blanket  wrapped  around  you  ?  "  said  Clarence. 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you  ;  I'll  share  it  with  you," 
said  she,  delighted  with  this  first  act  of  thoughtful- 
ness  from  her  son. 

Patchy  was  guided  to  a  spot  protected  by  a  large 


THE    BROWN    COTTAGE.  69 

pine  tree ;  and  soon  after  the  comfortable  arrange 
ment  with  the  blanket  had  been  made,  Clarence  fell 
asleep,  with  his  head  resting  on  his  mother's 
shoulder. 

After  having  remained  a  full  hour  under  the  tree, 
the  snow  flurry  passed  away,  and  the  moon  peered 
out  between  the  driving  clouds. 

Without  awakening  Clarence,  Mrs.  Paverley  suc 
ceeded  in  starting  Patchy  on  the  road.  Apparently 
the  poor  beast  bethought  himself  that  he  was  on  the 
Avay  home,  for  he  made  his  lean  shanks  move 
swiftly  over  the  snow-covered  ground ;  and  when 
Clarence  awoke,  it  was  at  the  door  of  his  mother's 
cottage. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

THE    BROWN   COTTAGE. 

"  WHERE  am  I?  "  cried  Clarence,  awaking  from  a 
sound  sleep. 

"  Home,"  was  the  reply. 

A  faint  light  shone  through  the  small  window  of 
a  brown  cottage. 

"  Home  !  Can  it  be  my  home?  "  exclaimed  the 
poor  boy. 

The  door  of  the  cottage  opened,  and  a  young  girl 
appeared  with  a  flaring  candle  in  her  hand. 


70  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

"Mother,  is  it  you?"  said  a  sweet  voice.  "I 
have  been  so  anxious  about  you !  Is  my  brother 
with  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  here  he  is,  not  more  than  half  awake." 

The  poor  fellow  did  not  move  after  his  mother 
had  alighted  from  the  cart.  There  he  sat,  as  still 
as  a  snow  statue. 

Mrs.  Paverley  lifted  him  in  her  strong  arms,  and 
carried  him  into  the  room  which  was  kitchen, 
dining-room,  and  parlor.  She  placed  him  on  a 
wooden  bench,  near  a  small  cooking-stove,  in  which 
a  fire  was  still  burning. 

Clarence  had  never  been  in  the  dwelling  of  a 
poor  person  since  he  left  his  home  ten  years  before. 

"  Where  is  Peter?  "  asked  the  mother. 

"  Gone  to  bed,  long  ago,"  said  Lucy. 

"  Rouse  him  up.  Patchy  must  be  fed  and  cared 
for." 

Clarence  sat  by  the  stove,  every  bone  and  every 
muscle  aching  with  the  jolting  he  had  undergone. 

u  You  shall  have  some  hot  sage  tea,"  said  his 
mother. 

"  I  see  Lucy  has  kept  water  hot,  and  potatoes, 
too,"  added  Mrs.  Paverley,  looking  into  the  stove 
oven. 

Lucy,  having  called  Pete,  returned,  and  went  to 
work  to  have  supper  ready  for  the  travellers.  She 
drew  a  large  pine  table  near  the  stove,  and  spread  a 
brown  cloth  upon  it.  While  thus  employed  she 
said  to  Clarence,  — 


THE    BROWN    COTTAGE.  71 

"  You  must  be  very  tired  and  hungry.  You  had 
a  tedious  journey." 

There  was  something  wonderfully  soothing  in 
this  sweet  voice,  and  Clarence  looked  inquiringly  at 
the  face  of  his  sister.  It  was  a  lovely  face,  expres 
sive  of  uncommon  sweetness  of  disposition,  and  at 
the  same  time  decidedly  intellectual. 

Peter  came  bounding  down  the  narrow  staircase, 
from  the  attic,  and  seizing  the  hand  of  Clarence 
with  his  own  rough  and  brown  one,  shouted,  — 

"How  are  you,  fellow?  Yellow  kid  gloves. 
Now  if  that  ain't  jolly  !  " 

"  Pete,  go  instantly  and  take  care  of  Patchy," 
said  the  mother. 

Patchy  had  already  found  his  way  to  the  barn. 
Peter  took  good  care  of  him,  but  left  the  trunks  in 
the  cart. 

The  contents  of  Mrs.  Warren's  basket,  with  the 
addition  of  hot  potatoes,  made  an  excellent  meal, 
which  Clarence  did  not  reject ;  neither  did  he  refuse 
the  sage  tea,  unpalatable  as  it  was  to  his  fastidious 
taste.  Peter  was  not  averse  to  sharing  the  good 
things,  when  he  came  in  from  the  barn. 

O     / 

After  the  refreshing  supper  was  finished,  Mrs. 
Paverley  said,  cheerfully,  to  Lucy,  "  Come,  my 
child,  take  the  Bible  and  read  a  few  verses." 

With  that  sweet,  melodious  voice,  which  seemed 
the  most  suitable  music  for  the  Psalms  of  David, 
Lucy  read  the  following  verses  :  — 


72  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

"  Bow  down  thine  ear,  O  Lord ;  hear  me,  for  I 
am  poor  and  needy. 

u  Preserve  my  soul ;  for  I  am  holy.  O  thou  my 
Gk>d,  save  thy  servant  that  trusteth  in  thee. 

"  Be  merciful  unto  me,  O  Lord  ;  for  I  cry  unto 
thee  daily. 

"  Rejoice  the  soul  of  thy  servant ;  for  unto  thee,  O 
Lord,  do  I  lift  up  my  soul. 

"  For  thou,  Lord,  art  good,  and  ready  to  forgive, 
and  plenteous  in  mercy  unto  all  them  that  call  upon 
thee. 

•"Give  ear,  O  Lord,  unto  my  prayer,  and  attend 
to  the  voice  of  my  supplications." 

The  mother  and  daughter  knelt,  and  Clarence 
followed  their  example.  The  mother  uttered  a  fer 
vent  thanksgiving  for  a  safe  journey,  and  for  the 
blessing  of  having  her  son  restored  to  her,  and 
ended  with  the  Lord's  Prayer. 

Clarence  was  then  shoAvn  into  a  very  small,  but 
clean  room,  adjoining  the  kitchen.  In  spite  of  his 
fatigue  and  sorrow,  he  soon  fell  asleep,  and  slept  as 
soundly  on  the  straw  bed  as  if  it  had  been  his  usual 
spring-mattress. 

It  was  just  nine  o'clock,  the  next  morning,  when 
the  mother  stepped  quietly  to  the  bedside  of  the  sleep 
ing  Clarence.  His  soft,  light  hair  fell  in  disorder 
about  a  face  flushed  with  an  almost  infantile  rosy 
hue.  One  small,  delicate  hand  lay  upon  the  rough 
covcrletj  which  contrasted  strangely  with  the.  Hue 


THE    BROWN    COTTAGE.  73 

linen  wristband  and  gold  sleeve-buttons.  In  the 
other  hand  was  an  embroidered  handkerchief, 
which  had  been  saturated  with  tears  from  the  eyes 
of  the  pretty  sleeper. 

Mrs.  Paverley  gazed  at  her  son  with  a  mingled 
feeling  of  pity  and  admiration.  Through  the  open 
door  she  beckoned  to  Lucy,  who  immediately 
stepped  to  her  side. 

"  Beautiful,"  whispered  Lucy.  She  now  remem 
bered  when  her  little  playmate  was  taken  from  her, 
and  the  tears  that  it  cost  her.  The  tears  that  now 
moistened  her  large  gray  eyes  were  tears  of  joy. 

Suddenly  Clarence  awoke,  and  looked  directly 
into  those  loving  eyes.  He  drew  his  face  beneath 
the  covering,  exclaiming,  "  Where  am  I?  " 

"  At  your  own  home,  my  brother,"  was  the  gen 
tle  reply. 

"  Yes,  my  son ;  and  you  must  get  up  and  have 
your  breakfast,"  said  another,  not  as  gently,  but 
with  real  kindness,  as  she  closed  the  door. 

After  a  few  moments,  Clarence  gave  a  little  tap 
on  the  door,  and  said,  — 

"  Pleath,  marm,  I  don't  obtherve  any  wath  bathiu 
and  ewer." 

"  Peter  always  washes  himself  at  the  pump," 
said  Mrs.  Paverley ;  "  but  for  this  once  you  shall 
have  a  wash  basin  in  your  room."- 

A  tin  basin  and  a  coarse  towel  were  handed  in. 

To  Clarence,  who  had  been  accustomed  to  all  the 


74  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

means  and  appliances  of  "  modern  improvement," 
this  rough  way  of  making  his  morning  ablutions 
was  a  severe  trial.  He  seemed,  figuratively,  to 
have  jumped  from  a  hot  bath  into  a  snow-drift. 

Was  it  the  rough  towel,  that  almost  took  the  skin 
off  his  face,  that  brought  tears  to  his  eyes  ? 

After  a  while  he  partly  opened  the  door,  and  said, 
"  I  thould  like  my  drething-cathe." 

"  Come  to  breakfast,  my  son  ;  you  cannot  have  it 
now." 

The  breakfast  consisted  of  mush  and  milk,  and 
some  of  the  remaining  doughnuts. 

The  poor  boy  had  no  appetite  for  his  solitary 
breakfast. 

At  one  end  of  the  kitchen  was  a  wooden  bench, 
on  which  stood  two  large  wash-tubs.  At  one  of 
these  tubs  was  Lucy,  employed  in  washing.  She 
had  been  thus  occupied  for  more  than  two  hours 
that  morning  before  Clarence  was  awake. 

The  mother  had  left  the  other  tub  to  attend  to 
Clarence. 

From  an  old  black  teapot  Mrs.  Paverley  poured 
a  cup  of  sage  tea  into  a  bowl,  and  sweetened  it  with 
molasses. 

"  You  must  take  this  herb  tea,  boy.  It  will  do 
you  good.  Don't  you  feel  stiff  after  your  long 
ride?" 

"  I  do.     E\ery  bone  in  my  body  acheth." 

"  Then  take  this  good  hot  tea,"  urged  the  mother. 


THE    BROWJY    COTTAGE.  75 

"  I  can't,  I  can't,  I  can't !  "  exclaimed  Clarence  ; 
and  unable  longer  to  control  himself,  he  burst  into 
a  violent  fit  of  crying  and  sobbing. 

"I  am  sorry  for  you  ;  but  you  must  not  be  such 
a  baby.  It's  a  thousand  pities  that  you  should 
have  been  spoiled.  Why,  your  brother  Peter, 
though  a  year  younger  than  you,  is  a  mighty  deal 
more  of  a  man." 

In  spite  of  his  mother's  remonstrance,  the  poor 
boy  dropped  his  head  upon  the  table  and  continued 
to  Aveep  vehemently. 

The  tears  of  the  sympathetic  sister  fell  too  fast 
to  count  them ;  but  she  refrained  from  offering  a 
consolatory  word,  having  been  told  by  her  mother 
not  to  treat  the  boy  too  tenderly. 

The  sound  of  wheels  was  now  heard,  and  soon 
after  Peter  rushed  in,  saying,  at  the  top  of  his 
voice,  — 

"  Them  trunks  are  lost ;  no  finding  'em  no 
where." 

"  My  trunths  lost !  "  exclaimed  Clarence,  raising 
his  head  from  the  table,  and  regarding  Peter  with 
amazement. 

"  Yes,  sir-ee !  When  I  went  to  the  barn  this 
morning  early,  I  looked  into  the  cart  where  they 
were  left,  and  not  a  sign  of  a  trunk  was  there. 
Then  I  came  in  and  told  mother.  Without  giving 
me  a  morsel  of  breakfast,  she  made  me  start  off  to 
the  village  to  inquire  after  them.  Nothing  has 


76  TRUE   MANLINESS. 

been  heard  of  'em  there.  Mother,  I'm  hungry  as 
a  wolf,"  continued  Peter,  gazing  wishfully  at  the 
doughnuts. 

"  I've  kept  some  potatoes  hot  in  the  ashes  for 
you,"  said  the  mother,  poking  among  the  embers. 

Clarence  shoved  the  doughnuts  to  the  other  side 
of  the  table  where  Peter  had  seated  himself. 

"  Help  yourthelf,  if  you  pleathe,"  said  he. 

A  smile  passed  over  the  rough  features  of  the 
stout  younger  brother,  —  whether  caused  by  the 
childish  lisp  of  his  pretty  brother,  or  induced  by  the 
kindly  offer,  it  would  be  difficult  to  say.  At  all 
events,  the  doughnuts  rapidly  disappeared,  and  the 
potatoes  followed  in  quick  succession.  The  rejected 
sage  tea  was  swallowed  without  taking  the  bowl 
from  Peter's  mouth,  till  he  came  to  the  last  drop. 

All  at  once  he  seemed  to  recollect  himself,  as 
Clarence  said,  in  a  doleful  voice,  — 

"My  clothe  and  every  thing  gone  !  What  can  I 
do?" 

"  O,  here's  a  letter  for  you,  from  the  post-office, 
Master  Clarence  Hose ;  and  a  box  is  in  the  entry 
with  the  same  name  on  it.  I'll  bring  it  in.  I 
found  it  at  the  hotel.  It  came  in  the  stage." 

So  saying,  Peter  lugged  in  the  box,  strong  fellow 
that  he  was,  and  told  Clarence  to  take  it  up.  and 
carry  it  to  his  room. 

Clarence  tried  in  vain  to  lift  the  box,  for  though 
it  was  not  large,  it  was  heavy. 


THE,    BROWM    COTTAGE.  77 

"  What  a  baby  you  are  !  "  exclaimed  Pete,  lifting 
the  box  and  striding  across  the  kitchen  proudly. 

When  he  had  deposited  it  in  the  small  bedroom, 
he  called  out,  "  Sugar  plums  for  baby,  I  guess. 
Come,  let's  see.  Hammer  and  tongs  1  Let's  open 
her." 

Pete  knocked  away  with  a  will,  and  soon  the 
contents  of  the  box  were  displayed. 

Clarence  seized  a  letter  lying  on  the  top,  and 
finding  it  was  from  his  "  mamma,"  read  it  eagerly, 
while  Pete  hauled  out  the  other  contents  and  heaped 
them  upon  the  floor. 

Every  thing  that  had  belonged  to  Clarence,  even 
from  childhood,  had  been  gathered  by  Mrs.  Rose 
and  forwarded  to  her  darling.  Even  many  of  his 
playthings  —  balls,  tops,  battledoors,  skates,  &c. 

Clarence  was  aroused  from  the  perusal  of  the 
kind  letter  by  the  loud  laughter  of  Pete,  and  his 
exclamation,  — 

"  Jimrniuy,  what  a  thing  !  You  would  look  like 
a  fire-hang-bird,  with  this  on  your  back  !  " 

Pete  was  holding  up  a  Irand  new  paletot,  of  fine 
blue  broadcloth,  lined  with  scarlet  flannel. 

Mrs.  Rose  mentioned  in  her  letter  that  this  gar 
ment  had  been  made  and  paid  for  before  the  failure 
of  Mr.  Rose. 

There  were  numerous  gay  cravats  that  had  been 
thrown  aside,  and  other  articles  of  wearing  apparel 
that  had  been  outgrown.  But  what  Clarence  saw 


78  TRUE    JtfAATZ/JVESS. 

with  the  greatest  pleasure  was  a  number  of  books, 
—  in  short,  his  whole  miscellaneous  library,  from 
Mother  Goose  and  Cock  Robin  to  Prescott's  "  Con 
quest  of  Mexico." 

Pete  poked  his  arms  into  the  sleeves  of  the  pale 
tot,  and  turning  out  as  much  of  the  scarlet  lining  as 
possible,  went  capering  into  the  kitchen,  crying,  — 

"  Ain't  I  fine  !  jolly  fine  !  " 

The  associations  connected  with  the  childhood  of 
Clarence,  and  the  letter,  quite  overcame  the  boy, 
and  he  threw  himself  upon  the  bed  and  cried  aloud. 

"  Boo-hoo  !  Boo-hoo  !  "  exclaimed  Pete  ;  "  a  thir 
teen-year-old  baby !" 

"  Be  quiet,  Pete ;  take  off  that  overcoat,  and  go 
about  your  business.  You  shan't  tease  Clarence," 
said  the  mother. 

"  The  boys  will  throw  mud  at  him  if  he  wears 
this  thing,"  replied  Pete,  throwing  the  paletot  on  the 
floor,  and  giving  it  a  contemptuous  kick. 

Pete  was  a  fair  specimen  of  a  "  muscular "  boy. 
He  had  swung  his  hands,  not  in  play-gymnastics, 
but  with  axe  in  hand,  since  he  was  nine  years  old. 
Hoe,  rake,  and  spade  were  his  other  implements 
for  exercise  ;  and  his  broad  shoulders  and  sturdy 
arms,  his  tough,  hard  hands,  and  his  big  feet, 
matched  well  with  his  wide,  expanded  chest,  and 
his  thick  neck.  He  thought  himself  manly  because 
he  was  physically  strong.  But  that  was  a  great 
mistake.  He  was  strong  like  a  beast  of  burden. 


Jl    PLEASANT    MEETING.  79 

That  kind  of  strength  has  its  use  ;  but  it  is  not  the 
highest  kind  of  strength.  Something  more  is  want 
ing  for  a  man,  "  the  lord  of  creation." 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

A  PLEASANT   MEETING-. 

WHEN  Clarence  had  been  in  his  new  home  a  few 
weeks,  he  would  scarcely  have  been  recognized  by 
his  schoolmates  at  the  parsonage. 

The  gay  paletot  had  been  exchanged  at  a  tailor's 
in  the  neighboring  village  for  a  suit  of  coarse  gray 
cloth  and  some  other  needed  garments.  Thick 
"  cowhide  "  boots  and  a  woollen  cap  completed  his 
attire. 

One  evening,  at  supper  time,  Pete  did  not  appear 
at  the  usual  hour.  He  generally  was  quite  anxious 
for  supper.  It  was  a  cruelly  cold  winter  evening, 
and,  as  hour  after  hour  passed,  Mrs.  Paverley  and 
Lucy  became  seriously  alarmed. 

At  length,  about  ten  o'clock,  something  seemed 
to  be  thrown  against  the  front  door.  Lucy  ran  to 
open  it. 

There  was  Pete,  in  a  dreadful  condition.  Some 
body  had  helped  him  home,  for  he  had  been  quite 
unable  to  walk. 


80  TRUE 

He  had  been  trying  his  strength  with  a  boy 
nearly  twice  his  own  age  and  size,  and  had  been 
furiously  beaten.  One  of  his  eyes  was  so  swollen 
that  it  was  entirely  closed,  and  his  face  wa^  covered 
with  blood.  In  short,  he  was  bruised  from  head  to 
foot,  and  his  boasted  strength  was  so  far  gone,  that 
his  mother  and  sister  were  obliged  to  use  theirs  to 
lift  the  boy  into  the  house. 

"Where  have  you  been?  and  what  have  you 
been  about?*"  exclaimed  the  mother,  as  they  laid 
Pete  upon  a  "  settle"  *  before  the  fire. 

Pete  was  so  completely  chilled  that  he  could  not 
answer.  Indeed,  from  the  injuries  he  had  received, 
and  the  severe  cold,  he  was  almost  insensible. 

Clarence  ran  for  a  sponge,  —  which  was  among 
the  articles  sent  in  the  box,  —  and  with  some  luke 
warm  water  washed  the  blood  from  Pete's  face, 
while  Mrs.  Paverley  drew  off  his  boots,  and  rubbed 
the  almost  frozen  feet.  Lucy  put  on  the  tea-kettle, 
to  make  some  of  her  mother's  sovereign  remedy  for 
all  complaints  —  sage  tea. 

After  using  these  simple  restoratives  till  Pete 
seemed  to  be  thawed  out,  the  mother  again  ques 
tioned  him. 

When  he  attempted  to  answer,  they  found  that 
he  lisped  quite  as  much  as  Clarence ;  for  in  his 
fierce  fight  he  had  bitten  his  own  tongue. 

*  Settle.  A  wooden  scat  for  four  persons,  with  a  high  back  to 
keep  off  the  cold  air. 


A    PLEASANT   MEETING.  81 

"  I  tan't  tell  you,"  he  uttered  with  great  difficulty, 
with  his  mouth  open  and  his  swollen  tongue  pro 
truding  from  his  mouth. 

Lucy  was  agreeably  surprised  to  find  her  brother 
Clarence  so  tender  and  helpful.  He  seemed  to  have 
forgotten  all  the  rough  usage  and  unkindness  he 
had  received  from  Pete,  and  he  showed  unusual 
thoughtfulness  in  the  means  he  used  to  alleviate  the 
sufferings  of  the  young  bully,  who,  in  trying  his 
strength,  had  nearly  lost  his  life. 

In  consequence  of  Pete's  inability  to  go  about  his 
usual  work,  Clarence  was  obliged  to  take  his  place. 
Patchy  came  under  his  special  care,  besides  two 
pigs  that  were  to  be  fed,  wood  to  be  brought  in, 
and  kindling  to  be  chopped. 

The  day  but  one  after  Pete's  frolic,  Clarence  had 
to  drive  into  the  neighboring  village,  —  we  might 
as  well  call  it  Hodgeton,  though  that  was  not  really 
its  name.  Well,  Clarence  was  obliged  to  tackle 
that  rack  of  bones,  Patchy,  to  the  cart,  and  drive 
into  Hodgeton  with  the  week's  washing.  From  the 
hotel  in  the  village,  Mrs.  Paverley  was  regularly 
supplied  with  a  quantity  of  clothing,  and  her  prin 
cipal  source  of  revenue  was  the  wash-tub. 

Like  the  famous  Giles  Jolt,  who,  when  he  was 
sleeping  on  the  road,  and  some  rogues  stole  his 
horse,  and  when  he  awoke  found  himself  alone  in 
the  cart,  exclaimed,  "  Am  I  Giles  Jolt,  or  am  I 
not?  If  so,  I've  lost  a  horse  ;  if  not,  I've  found  a 
6 


82  TRUE   MANLINESS. 

cart,"  Clarence  might  have  doubted  his  own  iden 
tity,  so  strange  it  was  for  him  to  be  driving  that 
forlorn  beast  in  that  miserable  cart. 

And  yet,  there  was  a  new  sense  of  power,  as  he 
held  the  reins,  that  was  not  disagreeable.  He  was 
somebody  who  had  the  control  of  another  body,  and 
he  drove  up  to  the  door  of  the  cottage  for  the  bas 
kets  quite  valiantly.  Yet  when  he  stood  by  the 
fire,  warming  his  hands,  tears  were  in  his  eyes. 

Lucy  took  the  small  hands  in  her  own,  and  chafed 
them,  saying,  "  I  will  go  to  the  village  for  you, 
brother  ;  it  is  too  hard  for  you." 

"  No,  no,"  he  replied,  "  I  am  not  crying.  I  with 
to  go  niythelf.  I'm  only  cold." 

"  That's  right,"  said  the  mother,  as  she  brought 
a  warm  blanket  to  wrap  about  the  delicate  boy. 

"  And  here  is  the  muffler  for  your  ears  that  I 
finished  last  night,"  said  Lucy,  tying  the  woollen 
comforter  about  the  neck  and  head  of  her  brother ; 
and  then  she  helped  him  in  putting  the  baskets  in 
the  cart. 

Thus  defended  from  the  cold,  Clarence  drove 
Patchy  quite  cheerily  to  the  village,  and  stopped 
before  the  hotel.  As  he  was  taking  one  of  the 
large  baskets  out  of  the  cart,  a  pleasant,  familiar 
voice  greeted  his  ear. 

"  How  are  you,  Clarence !  Let  me  help  you 
with  the  baskets.  It's  a  bitter  day  for  you  to  be 
out." 


A    PLEASANT    MEETING.  83 

"Harvey  Amadore !  How  came  you  here?" 
was  the  surprised  exclamation  that  followed. 

"  I  am  here  for  the  winter  vacation.  Let's  hand 
in  the  baskets,  and  put  Patchy  under  cover  ;  then  we 
will  go  in  and  have  a  good  talk." 

So  saying,  Harvey  seized  one  of  the  baskets  and 
carried  it  into  the  hotel,  while  Clarence  with  much 
difficulty  dragged  another  along. 

"  Come,  Sam  Patch,"  said  Harvey,  gayly,  as  he 
drove  the  miserable  steed -into  the  stable,  while 
Clarence  looked  after  his  friend  —  to  him,  indeed,  a 
friend  in  need. 

Soon  the  two  boys  were  cosily  seated  by  a 
rousing  fire  in  the  "  inn's  best  room."  A  table, 
with  arrangements  for  two  persons,  was  soon 
spread,  and  a  smoking-hot  dinner,  of  broiled  chick 
ens  and  stewed  oysters,  was  placed  upon  the  table. 

Poor  Clarence  looked  at  the  savory  meal  with 
longing  eyes. 

"  Come,  Clarence,  let  us  draw  up  and  take  our 
dinner  before  it  is  cold,"  said  Harvey. 

Clarence  hesitated,  and  colored  deeply.  He  had 
no  money.  His  pride  revolted  at  being  obliged  to 
make  the  confession ;  besides,  he  had  always 
thought  Harvey  to  be  in  very  moderate  circum 
stances. 

Harvey  placed  a  chair  by  the  table  for  Clarence, 
saying,  — 

"  I  ordered  dinner  for  two.     I  am  sure  you  will 


84:  TRUE   MANLINESS. 

not  refuse  to  keep  a  friend  company,  who  would 
otherwise  have  had  a  solitary  meal. " 

"But,  but,"  began  Clarence.  Harvey  inter 
rupted  him. 

"  None  of  your  buts,  or  ifs,  or  ands,  old  fellow. 
This,  for  the  time  being,  is  my  home,  and  you  are 
my  guest." 

Thus  urged,  Clarence  took  the  offered  chair,  and 
Harvey  seated  himself  opposite  his  "  guest." 

"  Shall  I  say  grace?  "  inquired  Harvey,  with  just 
the  slightest  embarrassment. 

Clarence  nodded  assent. 

Never  before  was  a  meal  so  welcome  to  the  pet 
ted  boy,  accustomed  as  he  had  been  in  other  days  to 
a  luxurious  table. 

"  I  haven't  told  you  anything  about  our  school," 
said  Harvey,  who  was  enjoying  the  relishing  dinner 
more  in  seeing  the  keen  appetite  of  his  friend  thus 
gratified,  than  by  partaking  of  it  himself,  though  he 
did  set  the  example  by  eating  heartily,  but  not  im 
moderately. 

"  I  must  tell  you  about  the  boys." 

"  Do,  do.  I  want  to  hear  about  them,"  said 
Clarence. 

"  Bully  Jimson  fought  with  Daring  Dick  of  the 
village,  and  had  one  eye  knocked  out." 

"  That  might  have  happened  to  my  brother  Pe 
ter,  for  he  wath  dreadfully  hurt  in  a  fight.  Why 
do  boyth  fight?" 


A    PLEASANT    MEETING.  85 

"Because  they  are  too  much  afraid  of  being 
called  cowards  ;  and,  besides,  they  think  it  is  manly. 
Mr.  Warren  sent  immediately  for  Jimson's  parents , 
and  they  carried  the  poor  fellow  home." 

"What  has  become  of  Stackpole  Clap?" 

"  O,  to  be  sure ;  we  have  two  new  boys,  whom 
he  toadies  just  as  he  toadied  Jimson.  It  is  a  mean 
ness  of  nature  so  deeply  rooted,  I  fear  he  will  never 
be  able  to  eradicate  it.  He  tried  it  with  me,  after 
you  left ;  but  I  was  so  disgusted  with  it,  that  I  told 
him,  not  very  politely,  that  I  had  a  natural  aversion 
to  toads  and  snakes.  Since  then  he  has  revenged 
himself  by  calling  me  "  old  graypatch,"  which 
nickname  the  new  boys  have  adopted  ;  but  that  does 
not  trouble  me  at  all.  Mrs.  Warren  has  been,  you 
know,  more  quiet  and  dignified  since  the  turkey 
affair,  and  Mr.  Warren  is  as  good  and  faithful  as 
ever.  I  consider  him  one  of  the  best  friends  I 
have  had  since  I  have  been  an  orphan.  I  was 
sorry  to  part  with  you  from  school,  Clarence." 

"  How  did  you  happen  to  know  my  mother  "  — 
eagerly  inquired  Clarence  ;  and  in  a  lower  tone  he 
added —  "  to  be  a  rethpectable  woman?" 

"  I  had  often  seen  her  in  the  village  and  at 
church,  and  your  sister  Lucy  was  a  scholar  in  the 
Sunday  school  when  I  was  a  small  boy  in  the  same 
school.  She  was  the  very  best  scholar  in  her  class." 

"  Then  you  live  near  here?  "  said  Clarence. 

"  Yes.     I  live  just  over  there,  on  Linden  Hill," 


86  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

replied  Harvey,  pointing  to  a  large  stone  building, 
looking  almost  like  a  castle. 

"  The  Lindens  !  That  your  home  !  "  exclaimed 
his  companion,  with  wide-open  eyes. 

"  That  is  my  home,  a  desolate  home,  for  I  have 
neither  father  nor  mother,  brother  nor  sister." 

"  And  ith  it  all  your  own?" 

"It  is  ;  but  gladly  would  I  have  had  dear  ones  to 
enjoy  it  with  me.  I  am  going  to  have  a  Christmas 
party.  I  shall  ask  the  teachers  and  scholars  of  the 
Sunday  school,  of  which  I  have  spoken,  to  come  to 
the  Lindens  on  Christinas  eve  ;  and  I  want  you  and 
your  sister  to  join  us  there." 

Clarence  was  meditating  upon  the  plain  gray 
dress  which  Harvey  had  always  worn  at  Mr.  War 
ren's,  and  in  which  he  now  appeared,  and  from 
which  he  inferred  that  he  was  very  far  from -rich, 
his  idea  of  wealth  being  very  closely  associated 
with  fine  clothing. 

"  You  do  not  accept  my  invitation,"  said  Harvey. 

"  I  haven't  any  thing  fit  to  wear  to  a  party,"  said 
Clarence,  doubtfully  and  dolefully. 

"  Nonsense.  I  can't  accept  such  an  apology.  I 
shall  ask  your  sister  myself.  Will  you  take  me 
home  with  you  now  ? ' 

4*But  will  you  ride  in  a  cart,  with  that  mitliera- 
ble  apology  for  a  horth  ?  " 

*'  I  will  go  home  with  you,  if  you  will  allow  me 
the  pleasure,"  kindly  replied  Harvey.  "  Fetch  up 


A    PLEJlSJJYT    MEETING.  87 

Patchy  to  the  door,  if  you  please,  and  I  will  be 
ready  to  jump  in." 

While  Clarence  went  for  his  humble  equipage, 
Harvey  paid  the  hotel  bill,  and  warmed  the  blanket 
which  had  been  brought  in  from  the  cart.  Harvey 
sprang  into  the  vehicle  at  a  bound,  saying,  — 

"  Let  me  wrap  the  blanket  around  you,  and  give  me 
the  reins  ;  my  hands  are  tongh,  and  yours  are  tender." 

Clarence  gladly  yielded  the  reins ;  and  Patchy, 
stimulated  by  a  plentiful  dinner  of  oats,  went  off  at 
a  brisk  pace. 

Much  wondering,  and  quite  anxious  at  the  pro 
longed  absence  of  Clarence,  Lucy  was  eagerly  look 
ing  out  of  the  small  front  window  of  the  cottage, 
when  Patchy  came  trotting  up  to  the  door.  Oats 
had  more  to  do  with  his  speed  than  the  driver's 
skill,  though  Harvey  was  accountable  for  both. 

Clarence  introduced  "  Mr.  Amadore "  with  evi 
dent  embarrassment,  while  Lucy  received  the  visitor 
calmly,  and  placed  a  chair  for  him  without  the 
slightest  awkwardness.  Mrs.  Paverley  was  in  a 
flutter,  wondering  what  had  happened. 

Harvey  took  the  offered  chair,  near  the  stove, 
and  soon  made  known  the  object  of  his  visit, 

Lucy  said  she  would  be  pleased  to  meet  her  for 
mer  teachers  and  schoolmates  of  the  Sunday  school, 
and  she  would  be  glad  to  have  Clarence  with  her. 

Harvey  then  inquired  after  Peter,  and  asked  tQ 
have  him  come  to  the  Christmas  party, 


88  TRUE    MAMLIJfESS. 

"  O,  dear  me,"  replied  Mrs.  Paverley,  "  Pete 
won't  be  out  of  the  house  for  at  least  two  weeks  ;  he's 
had  such  a  dreadful  drubbing.  I  hope  it  will  be  a  les 
son  to  him  not  to  go  about  fighting  like  a  bull-dog." 

Harvey  soon  after  hastened  homeward,  full  of 
kind  and  benevolent  plans  for  others  besides  himself. 
Gifted  with  a  large  fortune,  his  earnest  desire  was, 
to  make  the  best  possible  use  of  it  in  doing  good. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

HARDSHIPS. 

Now  that  Peter  was  disabled,  Clarence  had  to 
perform  all  the  out-door  work  at  the  cottage. 
He  had  never  before  handled  an  axe.  Now  he  had 
to  cut  and  split  all  the  wood  for  the  stove,  and  his 
hands  were  blistered  with  the  hard  work.  He  had, 
besides  to  feed  the  horse  and  a  pig.  This  latter 
duty  was  specially  disagreeable  to  the  delicate  boy. 

One  evening,  rather  late,  he  went  to  give  piggy 
his  supper.  It  was  so  dim  at  the  pig-pen  that  he 
could  not  see  the  place  where  the  contents  of  the 
bucket  were  to  be  poured  into  the  trough.  Piggy 
became  very  impatient  for  his  supper,  and  made  it 
known  by  loud  squeals.  Clarence  began  to  be  quite 
frightened  j  but  when  the  enraged  pig  jumped  upon 


HARDSHIPS.  89 

the  side  of  the  pen,  the  terrified  boy  put  down  the 
bucket,  and  ran  into  the  house,  crying  out  that  "  the 
pig  had  gone  mad,  and  was  going  to  attack  him  fu- 
riouthly." 

Lucy  lighted  a  candle,  put  it  in  an  old  lantern, 
and  went  immediately  to  see  if  she  could  quell  the 
furious  animal ;  while  Mrs.  Paverley  gave  Clarence 
a  severe  scolding  for  what  she  called  his  "  silly 
fears  of  a  fat  pig." 

Indeed,  in  the  midst  of  all  the  trials  incident  to 
his  new  situation,  his  sister  Lucy's  gentle  kindness 
was  a  great  alleviation.  Lucy  Paverley  might  have 
been  the  original  of  Wordsworth's  sweet  poem,  en 
titled  "  Lucy,"  — 

"  A  maid  whom  there  were  none  to  praise, 

And  very  few  to  love. 
A  violet  by  a  mossy  stone, 

Half  hidden  from  the  eye  ! 
Fair  as  a  star,  when  only  one 
Is  shining  in  the  sky." 

Mrs.  Paverley  had  frequently  remarked  that  Lucy 
took  after  her  father,  adding  that  "  he  had  a  mighty 
taste  for  learning,  and  took  to  poetry  as  a  duck 
takes  to  water." 

Although  Lucy  had  had  the  advantage  of  only 
three  winters'  schooling,  at  the  common  school  of 
the  district,  she  was  a  proficient  in  the  three  E-'s,  — 
"  'readhi',  'ritin',  and  Arithmetic,"  — and  had  a  de 
cided  taste  for  study. 


90  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

Mr.  Paverley  had  been  an  invalid  for  several 
years  before  his  death,  and  had  been  supported  by 
his  hard-working  wife,  with  the  assistance  of  Mr. 
Amadore,  the  father  of  Harvey,  who  was  then  liv 
ing  at  the  Lindens.  Paverley,  when  in  health,  was 
head  gardener  at  the  Lindens,  and  was  really  a 
man  of  uncommon  taste  for  reading,  for  one  in  his 
position. 

It  was  very  true  that  Lucy  more  resembled  her 
father  in  character  than  she  did  her  less  refined 
mother.  She  had,  too,  more  genuine  sensibility 
and  sentiment  than  her  brother  Clarence,  in  spite 
of  his  very  different  education.  That,  indeed,  had 
been  a  hot-house  culture,  quite  unfitting  him  for  the 
rude  encounter  of  wintry  blasts. 

For  some  days  after  Clarence  had  undertaken  the 
tasks  which  had  devolved  upon  Peter,  he  was  so  fa 
tigued  by  these  extraordinary  labors,  that  he  was 
obliged  to  go  to  bed  immediately  after  supper. 

His  bedroom  now  showed  a  very  different  ap 
pearance  from  the  shabby  one  that  presented  itself 
to  the  astonished  boy  on  his  first  arrival. 

In  the  box  sent  by  Mrs.  Rose  were  a  number 
of  pretty  engravings,  some  in  frames  and  others 
without.  All  of  these  Lucy  had  arranged  about 
the  small  bedroom,  and  they  nearly  covered  the 
dingy  walls.  A  neat  patchwork  bed-quilt  covered 
his  bed,  and  he  Had  even  a  toilet-table,  made,  to  be 
sure,  of  rough  boards,  but  covered  with  white  muslin, 


HARDSHIPS.  91 

an  ingenious  transformation  from  Mrs.  Paverley's 
wedding  dress.  On  the  toilet-table  stood  the  beautiful 
dressing-case  which  came  in  the  box,  and  had  been  a 
Christmas  gift  to  Clarence  only  a  year  previously.  A 
few  shelves  over  the  toilet-table  contained  his  library. 

Mrs.  Paverley  did  not  altogether  approve  of  this 
ministration  to  the  luxurious  taste  of  the  effeminate 
boy,  and  yet  she  allowed  Lucy  to  have  her  own  way 
about  the  bedroom,  with  one  exception.  When 
Lucy  proposed  to  have  a  wash-stand  purchased  in 
the  village,  Mrs.  Paverley  replied,  — 

"  No,  no,"  very  decidedly.  "  He  shall  go  to  the 
well,  and  wash  himself  in  the  tin  basin,  as  Pete 
does.  You  cosset  him  too  much." 

Small  as  this  trial  might  have  been  to  a  resolute 
boy,  who  might  one  day  be  subjected  to  the  hard 
ships  of  a  soldier's  life,  it  was  a  severe  one  to  Clar 
ence.  He  felt  as  though  he  would  rather  "  kick  the 
bucket,"  in  a  literal  sense,  than  to  draw  it  up  from 
the  well ;  and  he  frequently  salted  the  water,  with 
which  he  washed  his  face  and  hands,  with  those 
"  briny  drops  "  which  boys  usually  are  ashamed  to 
shed. 

And  when  the  thermometer  was  10°  below  zero, 
as  it  was  the  day  before  Christmas,  there  was  dan 
ger  of  the  water's  freezing  before  he  could  finish  his 
morning  ablutions.  No  wonder  that  a  real  "  boo- 
hoo,  boo-hoo,"  accompanied  the  splash  upon  his 
face,  and  continued  when  the  water  froze  to  the 


92  TRUE   MANLINESS. 

towel  which  hung  on  a  roller  behind  the  kitchen 
door. 

Lucy  chafed  the  aching  fingers  and  warmed  them 
on  her  own  cheeks,  with  the  comforting  assurance 
that  those  fingers  were  "  red,  and  not  white,"  as 
they  would  have  been  if  they  were  frozen. 

Small  comfort  in  this  assurance  while  the  pain 
lasted,  but  great  comfort  in  his  sister's  warmth  and 
kindness. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

MERRY    CHRISTMAS, 

HARVEY  AMADORE  had  been  left  an  orphan  at  the 
age  of  thirteen,  and  was  now  sixteen. 

The  will  of  his  father  was  a  remarkable  one. 
By  it  Harvey  was  to  receive  two  thousand  dollars  a 
year  till  he  became  of  age,  'House  in  his  education 
and  in  other  ways."  He  was  to  have  the  spending 
of  this  money,  as  expressed  in  the  will,  "  that  Har 
vey  may  learn  to  use  money  with  economy  and  gen 
erosity —  to  do  good  to  himself  and  others  with 
wealth  which  has  been  accumulated  without  a  con 
scientious  regard  to  the  wants  of  the  poor  and 
needy.  He  is,  moreover,  to  make  himself  and 
others  as  innocently  happy  as  possible  with  the 
liberal  allowance  granted  him  during  his  minority. 


MERRY    CHRISTMAS.  93 

Furthermore,  he  must  remember  that  the  estate  of 
which  he  will  in  time  become  possessor,  is  not  the 
result  of  his  own  labor,  but  was  acquired  through 
the  labor,  care,  and  painstaking  of  another ;  and 
that  he,  Harvey  Amadore,  will  be  accountable  to 
God  for  the  right  use  of  it.  During  his  minority 
he  must  keep  a  strict  account  of  his  expenditures, 
and  render  this  account  quarterly  to  my  executor, 
Mr.  Hosea  Fenton,  of  the  city  of  New  York." 

The  Lindens  was  Harvey's  home  when  he  was 
not  at  school,  and  the  spacious  mansion  was  kept  in 
order  by  the  housekeeper.  She  was  a  poor  relation, 
a  second  cousin  to  Mr.  Amadore,  and  was  named 
by  him,  in  that  singular  will,  as  housekeeper  at  the 
Lindens  during  Harvey's  minority,  with  a  liberal 
allowance  for  herself  and  for  the  expense  of  keep 
ing  the  place  in  order. 

And  now  Christmas  had  come,  and  was  to  be 
merrily  kept  by  the  teachers  and  scholars  at  the 
Hodgeton  Sunday  school. 

A  tall  Christmas  tree,  a  beautiful  Norway  spruce, 
was  placed  in  the  centre  of  the  circular  saloon,  at 
the  Lindens.  An  entrance  hall  led  to  this  saloon, 
which  occupied  a  large  space  in  the  middle  of  the 
house,  and  was  lighted  from  the  beautifully  painted 
window  on  the  roof. 

The  tree  had  been  firmly  fixed  in  a  large  block 
of  wood,  which  was  completely  covered  with  run 
ning  pine  and  other  evergreen  vines  from  the  woods. 


94  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

"  Come,  Aunty  Dotty,  coine  and  see  my  Christ 
mas  tree,"  said  Harvey,  delighted  with  its  appear 
ance,  as  it  stood  with  its  aspiring  top  pointing  to  the 
sky,  or,  rather,  the  sky-light.  He  then  left  the 
saloon. 

Miss  Dorothy  Trig  was  a  tall  maiden,  whom  fifty 
years  had  visited  somewhat  roughly,  judging  l^y 
the  screwed-up  mouth  which  approached  her  nose 
with  a  pugnacious  expression,  and  the  defiant  look 
of  her  light  gray  eyes. 

Aunty  Dotty,  as  Harvey  called  this  far-off  cousin, 
gave  her  mouth  a  tighter  screw  than  usual  as  she 
surveyed  the  tree,  and  then  she  gave  forth  her  opin 
ion  of  it. 

"  A  Christmas  tree  !  •  What  heathenish  nonsense  ! 
In  my  childhood  it  would  have  been  considered  the 
same  sort  of  thing  as  a  mince-pie  was  among  the 
Puritans  —  a  remnant  of  Popery.  But  times  are 
altered,"  added  Aunty  Dotty,  with  a  deep  sigh,  as 
she  placed  her  thin  arms  akimbo,  and  rolled  up 
her  gray  eyes  with  a  woful  expression,  "  times 
are  altered  dreadfully  for  the  worse.  I  won 
der  if  they  mean  to  transmogrify  our  country 
into  a  Babylon.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  this  tree 
was  a  kind  of  foreshadowing  of  such  an  idol  as 
Nebuchadnezzar  set  up,  or,  leastwise,  of  them  they 
set  up  now  in  Rome." 

After  this  soliloquy,  Aunty  Dotty  turned  her 
back  upon  the  foreshadowing  idol,  and  retired  to 
nurse  her  indignation  in  hur  own  room. 


MERRY    CHRISTMAS.  95 

Then  in  came  Harvey,  dragging  a,  large  basket. 
"With  the  assistance  of  one  of  the  men  servants,  he 
hung  upon  the  tree  a  quantity  of  useful  articles, 
shawls,  tippets,  hoods,  and  even  bonnets,  for  the 
girls,  —  for  the  little  ones,  dolls  and  other  toys  ; 
for  the  boys,  hats,  caps,  comforters,  "  red,  white, 
and  blue,"  skates,  tops,  balls,  &c.,  —  the  whole  tree 
ornamented  by  small  flags,  the  beloved  "  stars  and 
stripes."  Then  the  colored  wax  tapers  were  care 
fully  arranged  so  as  not  to  endanger  the  tree  when 
they  were  lighted. 

Books  were  too  heavy  for  the  bending  branches 
of  the  hemlocjs  ;  so  they  were  placed  on  a  table  near 
by,  a  goodly  quantity  of  them,  by  goodly  men  and 
women,  who  had  done  their  best  to  please  and  in 
struct  the  "rising  generation."  Rising  to  what? 
To  be  better  men  and  women  than  their  fathers 
and  mothers  ?  Quien  sdbe  ?  Who  knows  ? 

The  arrangements  had  all  been  completed  to 
Harvey's  satisfaction  ;  and  just  as  the  sun  was  set 
ting  on  Christmas  eve,  he  was  standing  before  the 
beautiful  tree  with  Aunty  Dotty,  for  he  had  sum 
moned  her  from  her  room. 

With  her  arms  akimbo,  and  her  thin  lips  drawn 
into  a  condemning  sneer,  she  too  surveyed  the  gor 
geously  bedecked  spruce,  and  then  said,  — 

"  Now,  Harvey,  I  do  declare  you  have  been  very 
extravagant.  The  fruit  on  that  tree  must  have 
cost  more  than  a  hundred  dollars ;  and  the  books 


96  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

on  that  table  another  hundred.  '  A  woful  waste 
will  make  a  woful  want.' " 

"But,  Aunty  Dotty,  it  is  not  a  waste ;  they  are 
all  useful  articles,  except  here  and  there  a  basket 
of  candies  and  a  sprinkling  of  oranges,"  replied 
Harvey,  in  a  mild,  conciliatory  tone. 

"  And  what  do  you  say  to  the  colored  wax  tapers 
all  burning  out  for  just  a  piece  of  folly?  No  such 
waste  was  ever  thought  of  in  my  time." 

"  What  do  you  think  of  the  thousands  of  bright 
tapers  in  the  night  sky  ?  Are  they  of  any  use  to 
us,  besides  being  beautiful?  What's  the  use  of 
flowers,  and  the  splendid  feathers  of  Jbirds,  or  the 
delicate  colors  of  sea-shells  ?  Are  they  not  all  for 
our  pleasure?  So  it  is  with  the  tapers  to  light  up 
the  tree  and  make  it  beautiful,  to  give  pleasure  to 
the  school  children.  Seldom  do  they  enjoy  any 
thing  of  this  kind.  Come,  Aunty,  now  be  reason 
able.  Put  on  your  best  silk  gown,  and  distribute 
the  gifts  to  the  girls.  I  am  sure  it  will  be  a  pleas 
ant  task.  I  will  do  the  same  for  the  boys." 

"Now,  Harvey,  you  always  find  a  way  to  get 
round  me,  and  make  me  do  as  you  like.  I  suppose 
I  must  take  a  part  in  this  mummery." 

So  saying,  Aunty  Dotty  left  the  hall,  and  very 
soon  returned,  arrayed  in  a  red  and  yellow  change 
able  silk,  that  had  descended  to  her  as  a  sort  of 
heirloom  in  the  family  of  the  Trigs.  She  wore 
about  her  neck  a  string  of  gold  beads,  that  might 


MERRY    CHRISTMAS.  97 

have  come  from  Amsterdam  centuries  ago,  for  on 
the  mother's  side  she  was  of  the  Vanderthuysens, 
or  Van  something  else. 

Aunty  Dotty  had  one  remarkable  peculiarity. 
Like  the  late  Lord  Dudley  and  Ward,  of  English 
notoriety,  she  spoke  out  what  was  in  her  mind, 
without  the  least  regard  to  the  persons  about  her. 
For  example :  Lord  Dudley  was  one  day  driving 
in  his  carriage  through  the  streets  of  London.  He 
met  an  acquaintance,  and  stopping  the  carriage,  in 
vited  the  gentleman  to  take  a  seat  beside  him.  The 
invitation  was  accepted,  and  they  drove  on.  After 
some  conversation,  Lord  Dudley  relapsed  into  si 
lence  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  said  to  himself, 
aloud,  "  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  ask  this  man  to 
dinner."  The  gentleman  said  to  himself,  aloud, 
*'  If  his  lordship  should  invite  me  to  dinner,  I 
should  be  obliged  to  decline." 

Now,  Miss  Dorothy  Trig  had  this  same  habit. 

The  children  were  assembled  in  the  large  parlor, 
before  the  tree  was  lighted.  When  they  had  all 
arrived,  and  had  disposed  of  their  wrappings,  they 
were  shown  into  the  saloon.  Hundreds  of  wax  ta 
pers  illuminated  the  tree.  It  was  a  beautiful  sight, 
and  the  children  were  as  much  surprised  and  de 
lighted  as  they  could  have  been  with  the  gorgeous 
palace  of  Aladdin.  Then  a  band  of  music  in  the 
entrance  hall  struck  up  a  familiar  air,  and  teachers 
and  children  sang  a  Christmas  carol. 
7 


98  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

Clarence  and  his  sister  Lucy  kept  themselves 
quite  in  the  background,  till  Harvey,  discovering 
them,  brought  them  forward  where  they  could  have 
a  better  view. 

After  the  singing  ceased,  the  whole  company,  as 
if  by  a  preconcerted  arrangement,  simultaneously 
clapped  their  hands  and  shouted  with  all  their  might. 

When  the  noise  subsided,  the  distribution  of  the 
gifts  began. 

Miss  Dorothy,  with  a  long  pole  in  her  hand, 
could  reach  to  the  topmost  branches. 

It  so  happened  that  her  eyes  fell  upon  Lucy  as 
she  stood  beside  her  brother. 

"  O,"  said  Aunty  Dotty,  "  I  must  give  Lucy  Pa- 
verley  something  nice,  for  she's  a  good  girl,  and 
helps  her  mother  ;  quite  a  pretty  girl,  too  ;  so  here's 
a  bright  plaid  shawl  for  her."  So  saying,  she 
brought  down  the  shawl,  which  was  tied  up  with  a 
blue  ribbon  in  a  roll,  as  it  hung  on  a  lower  branch 
of  the  tree. 

Lucy's  color  rose  at  this  complimentary  speech, 
and  she  received  the  gift  without  being  able  to  utter 
a  word. 

"  She  don't  like  the  shawl.  I  wonder  why ! " 
said  Aunty  Dotty. 

"  O,  I  do  like  it,  very  much,  indeed,"  Lucy  re 
plied,  as  Clarence  untied  the  ribbon,  and  said, 
"  What  a  pretty  thawl !  " 

"  Thawl ! "  echoed  Aunty  Dotty,  in  a  contemptu 
ous  tone. 


MERRY    CHRISTMAS.  99 

"  Come,  aunty,  they  are  waiting  for  you,''  said 
Harvey. 

The  distribution  continued,  Miss  Dorothy  making 
her  remarks  as  she  went  on,  till  all  the  gifts  for  the 
girls  were  distributed. 

Harvey  then  supplied  the  boys  with  theirs. 

To  Clarence  he  gave  Sparks's  "  Life  of  Frank 
lin  ; "  and  as  he  did  so,  he  whispered  in  his  ear,  — 

"  If  you  will  learn  to  speak  the  letter  S,  as  well 
as  you  have  the  R,  I  will  give  you  a  cow." 

Clarence  was  so  much  amused  with  the  singular 
gift  thus  promised,  that  he  laughed  heartily,  — the 
first  genuine,  hearty  laugh  he  had  enjoyed  since  he 
left  school. 

"  Thilly-boy,"  said  Aunty  Dotty,  loud  enough  for 
Clarence  to  hear  it. 

With  perfect  good  nature,  he  whispered  to  Har 
vey,  "  Dolly-boy,  or  little  Wainbow,  they  did  call 
me,  you  know.  Thilly-boy  ith  a  new  name." 

"  I  am  glad  you  don't  mind  what  Aunty  Dotty 
says  ;  she's  queer,  you  know." 

A  bountiful  table  was  spread  in  the  dining-room  ; 
and  thither,  led  by  Aunty  Dotty,  teachers  and 
scholars  hied  to  partake  of  the  Christmas  supper. 

When  the  children  had  done  ample  justice  to  the 
bountiful  supply  of  substantiate  and  "  goodies," 
Harvey  said,  — 

"  Now  we  will  adjourn  to  the  parlor  ;  and  before 
we  part  we  will  sing  another  Christmas  hymn." 


100  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

Harvey  seated  himself  at  the  piano,  and  played 
an  air  suitable  for  the  hymn,  and  teachers  and  chil 
dren  raised  their  happy  voices  together  in  singing, 
"  While  shepherds  watched  their  flocks  by  night." 

For  an  hour  longer  they  frolicked  on  the  bril 
liantly  lighted  lawn. 

On  their  return  home,  thousands  of  the  lamps  of 
heaven  shed  down  their  glittering  light  upon  the 
happy  children,  each  clasping  closely  his  Christinas 
gift,  and  chatting,  as  they  went,  on  the  pleasures 
of  this  memorable  evening. 

Clarence  asked  his  sister  if  she  heard  the  droll 
promise  Harvey  made  about  his  lisping. 

"  No,"  she  replied,  "  I  did  not.  What  a  beauti 
ful  thing  it  is  for  such  a  man  to  have  money ! " 

"  Man ! "  exclaimed  Clarence ;  "he  ith  but  a 
boy.  He  wouldn't  like  to  be  called  a  man.  He 
promithed,  if  I  would  leave  off  lithping,  to  give  me  a 
cow." 

Here  Clarence  quite  startled  Lucy  by  bursting 
into  a  laugh,  which  rung  out  loud  and  clear  upon 
the  silent  air  of  night. 

"  Ycth  ;  and  he  even  thent  Pete  a  book,  a  thplen- 
did  copy  of  Robinthon  Crutho,  with  ever  tho  many 
engravingth.  Do  you  know  that  queer  woman 
called  me  Thilly-boy  ?  Arid  what  ith  worth,  I  heard 
thome  of  the  children  whithpering  it  to  each  other, 
nfterwardth.'' 

u  Well,  brother,  I  will  help  you  to  learn  to  speak 


MERRY    CHRISTMAS.  101 

the  S.  We  will  begin  by  reading  the  Life  of  Frank 
lin  in  the  evenings ;  and  you  must  try  to  earn  the 
cow." 

'.'  I  care  leth  for  the  cow  than  I  do  for  being 
called  Thilly-boy.  I  am  not  thilly." 

Lucy's  face  was  not  visible,  or  Clarence  might 
have  seen  that  she  was  stifling  a  laugh.  She  did 
not  reply  to  him  for  some  moments.  At  length 
she  said,  — 

"  No,  brother,  you  are  not  silly  ;  but  this  unfor 
tunate  defect  in  your  speech  makes  you  appear  so  ; 
and  it  is  quite  time  for  you  to  overcome  it.  But 
here  we  are,  at  home  ;  and  mother  has  been  sitting 
up  for  us." 

Mrs.  Paverley  was  sleepy  and  tired  with  waiting 
for  her  children's  return ;  and  when  they  entered 
the  cottage,  chatting  merrily,  she  exclaimed,  fret- 
fully,- 

"  Hoity-toity !  you  don't  mind  my  sitting  here 
alone  till  this  time  o'  night !  " 

"  I  am  sorry,  mother  ;  but  see  what  our  Christ 
mas  gifts  are,"  said  Lucy,  unrolling  the  thick 
woollen  plaid  shawl.  "  You  can  wear  it,  mother, 
whenever  you  please." 

"  And  here's  a  new  book  for  Peter,  and  lots  of 
cakes  and  candies.  And  I  am  to  have  a  cow  one 
of  theth  dayth,"  said  Clarence,  with  a  hearty  laugh. 

"  Well,  now  that  is  a  funny  Christmas  present. 
I  don't  wonder  you  laugh  ;  and  I  am  glad  to  hear 


102  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

you  ;  for  it's  the  first  time  since  you  was  a  little  bit 
of  a  thing,  not  higher  than  my  knee.  Now  we'll 
go  to  bed." 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

UNWELCOME   FRIENDS. 

THE  plaid  shawl  was  worn  the  next  day  by  Lucy, 
although  she  urged  her  mother  to  wear  it ;  and,  ac 
companied  by  Clarence,  she  walked  to  church. 

It  was  one  of  those  sparkling  days  of  winter, 
when  the  snow  seems  to  reflect  the  blue  of  the  sky, 
and  the  shadows  lying  upon  that  pure  snow  are  al 
most  purple.  Dark  evergreens  lifted  their  tall  spires 
heavenward,  and  the  spreading  oaks  and  elms  made 
a  delicate  and  beautiful  tracery  upon  the  clear  sky. 

Lucy,  though  poor  in  purse,  was  not  poor  in 
mind.  What  was  genuine  sentiment  in  one  so 
humble  and  so  natural,  might  have  appeared  senti 
mentality  in  a  city-born  and  city-bred  miss  in  her 
teens,  who  had  derived  all  her  knowledge  of  nature 
from  poetry  and  romance. 

"  Isn't  there  something  quite  heavenly  in  the 
pretty  sky,  to-day,  Clarence?  And  the  snow  in 
its  purity  reminds  me  of  the  '  beauty  of  holiness.'" 

Clarence  cast  a  look  of  surprise  at  his  sister,  but 
did  not  answer  her  question. 


UNWELCOME    FRIENDS.  103 

"  We  ought  to  be  very  thankful  to-day  for  so 
many  blessings.  I  enjoy  having  you  with  me  so 
much,  so  much !  You  are  more  gentle  and  kind 
than  Pete." 

"  Then  you  think  me  a  gentlew&u"  said  Clar 
ence,  smiling. 

"  I  think  in  time  you  will  become  a  good,  useful 
man  —  a  better  man  than  you  would  have  been  if 
you  had  been  indulged  in  every  luxury,  as  you  were 
with  Mrs.  Rose,  and  was  in  danger  of  being  noth 
ing  but  a  vain,  silly  dandy." 

"  But  you  don't  know  what  a  dreadful  change  it 
ith  for  me,"  the  boy  exclaimed,  with  tears  starting 
to  his  eyes.     "  I  couldn't  bear  it,  if  it  wathn't  for  • 
you." 

"  In  time  you  will  confess  it  was  all  for  the  best. 
But  here  we  are,  near  the  church  door,  and  we  will 
try  to  make  this  the  best  Christmas  we  have  ever 
known.  With  all  our  poverty  and  needs,  we  are 
not  so  poor  as  that  blessed  Saviour  who  was  cradled 
in  a  manger,  and  afterwards  had  '  not  where  to  lay 
his  head.' " 

When  the  services  of  the  church  were  over,  Lucy 
and  Clarence,  thoughtful  and  Solemnized,  were 
walking  quietly  on  the  road  homeward,  when  a 
horse  and  sleigh,  driven  rapidly,  caused  them  to 
jump  aside  from  the  beaten  path.  Indeed,  Clarence 
came  very  near  being  run  over. 

Though  the  bells  on  the  horse  were  as  many  as 


104  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

he  well  could  carry,  above  the  merry  jingling  came 
a  shout,  "  Hulloa,  Dolly-boy." 

"  O,  goodneth  me  !  "  exclaimed  Clarence  ;  "  that 
wath  Jack  —  Jack  Jimthon  ;  and  I  think  Stackpole 
Clap  wath  the  other  boy.  I  wonder  where  they 
are  going." 

"  To  the  Lindens,"  said  Lucy.  "  See,  they  have 
stopped  at  the  great  gate." 

Harvey,  who  had  lingered  a  while  at  the  church, 
now  joined  Lucy  and  Clarence. 

"Did  you  see  who  was  in  that  sleigh?"  he  in 
quired.  "  They  passed  me  so  rapidly,  I  could  not 
quite  make  them  out ;  but  I  think  I  recognized 
Jack  Jimson." 

"  And  Stackpole  was  the  other  boy,"  said  Clar 
ence. 

"Unwelcome  as  they  are,  I  must  make  the  best 
of  it,  and  treat  them  civilly.  Come  home  with  me 
to  dinner,  Clarence." 

"JV0,  / thank  you"  replied  Clarence,  with  an  en 
ergy  of  expression  quite  startling  to  Lucy ;  and 
Harvey  said,  laughingly,  — 

"  No  wonder  you  don't  like  the  company  ;  but  I 
must  say  good  by,  and  hurry  home  to  receive  those 
fellows.  I  am  quite  sure  Aunty  Dotty  won't  give 
them  a  hearty  welcome." 

Sure  enough.  When  Harvey,  after  hastening  up 
the  avenue,  had  reached  the  front  of  the  house, 
there  sat  Stackpole  Clap  in  the  sleigh,  while  his 


UNWELCOME    FRIENDS.  105 

companion,  Jack,  was  talking  in  a  loud  voice  to 
some  one  within  the  door. 

"  Say,  now,  where  shall  I  put  my  horse?  I  shall 
wait  here  till  Harvey  comes  home." 

"  You'd  better  drive  off  your  horse,  and  go  where 
you  came  from.  We  don't  have  company  Christ 
mas  day.  We  had  enough  last  night."  This  was 
the  shrill  voice  of  Aunty  Dotty,  who  was  holding  a 
parley  through  the  keyhole  of  a  closed  door  with 
Jack  Jimson. 

"  O,  here  you  are,  my  dear  Harvey  !  "  exclaimed 
Stackpole,  "  in  time  to  prevent  our  being  rudely 
driven  from  your  door." 

"  Old  fellow,  how  are  you?"  cried  Jack,  as  he 
sprung  down  the  flight  of  steps ;  and,  seizing  the 
hand  of  Harvey,  he  gave  it  such  a  grip  that  Harvey 
fairly  winced  under  it. 

"  They  won't  let  us  in  to  your  hospitable  man 
sion,"  continued  Jack.  "  What  sort  of  a  Cerberus 
do  you  keep  here  ?  " 

"  I'll  send  a  servant  to  take  charge  of  your  horse. 
He  seems  in  need  of  care,  for  he  is  quite  in  a  foam. 
Come  in,  boys." 

Harvey  could  not  do  otherwise  than  be  civil  to 
his  quondam  schoolmates. 

Jack  Jimson  wore  a  green  shade  over  one  eye, 
which  entirely  concealed  the  swollen,  discolored 
eyelid ;  for  the  eye  itself  was  closed,  no  more  to 
open  upon  earth. 


106  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

Aunty  Dotty  was  too  much  displeased  to  preside 
at  the  dinner-table,  and  the  boys  had  it  all  to  them 
selves. 

"  What  a  splendid  place  this  is  !  "  said  Stackpole. 
"  Who  would  have  thought  you  were  the  owner?  I 
should  have  been  as  mad  as  fire,  if  I  had  been  you, 
to  be  called  "  Old  Grayskin." 

"  It  didn't  hurt  me,"  was  the  calm  reply. 

"  Who  do  you  think  we  saw,  as  we  were  driving 
along  the  road  ?  Little  Dolly-boy  !  Not  now 
rigged  out  in  style,  but  as  plain  and  homely  in  dress 


"  As  myself,"  laughingly  interrupted  Harvey. 

"Yes.  But  you  can  afford  to  dress  splendidly," 
exclaimed  Jack,  "  and  I  suppose  he  can't.  He's  as 
poor  as  Job's  cat." 

'"He  is  not  to  blame  for  that,"  calmly  replied 
Harvey. 

Jack  was  nonplused,  and  made  no  reply.  Stack- 
pole,  in  a  sneaking,  snivelling  tone,  said,  — 

"  I  thuppothe  he  trieth  hith  beth  to  keep  up  ac- 
quaintanth  with  you." 

"  He  makes  no  effort  of  that  kind,"  was  the  curt 
answer. 

"  You  don't  pretend  that  a  fellow  of  your  sense 
and  spirit  makes  a  companion  of  such  a  stupid 
jackass  as  Clarenth  Wothe,"  retorted  Jack,  with  a 
malicious  sneer. 

"  You  would  oblige  me,  boys,  by  dropping  this 


UNWELCOME    FRIENDS.  107 

subject.  Let  me  help  you  to  another  joint  of  tur 
key.  I  think  you  have  a  special  liking  for  turkeys." 

"  Now,  that's  an  insinuation  I  shouldn't  have  ex 
pected  from  you,  Harvey  Amadore,"  cried  Jack, 
reddening  with  anger,  and  throwing  down  the  knife 
and  fork  which  he  had  been  plying  most  vigorously, 
while  cramming  in  the  relishing  Christmas  dinner 
Aunty  Dotty  had  ordered. 

"  Come,  Jack,  don't  be  vexed ;  have  your  plate 
changed,  and  try  some  of  this  chicken  pie." 

"  There's  rhyme  and  reason  in  that,"  said  Jack, 
recovering  himself,  and  handing  his  plate  to  the 
waiter. 

"  Why,  you  live  like  a  prince,"  said  Stackpole, 
in  that  mean,  toadying  manner  which  always  dis 
gusted  Harvey  Amadore.  "  I  shouldn't  think  you'd 
want  to  come  back  to  old  Warren's." 

"  I  am  very  much  attached  to  Mr.  Warren,  and 
hope  to  pass  another  year  with  him." 

"  And  then  I  suppose  you  will  go  to  college." 

"  I  am  not  going  to  college." 

"Not  going  to  college !"' exclaimed  Jack  and 
Stackpole  in  the  same  breath. 

"No,  I  am  not." 

"  Well,  you  are  going  to  try  the  otium  cum  digni- 
tate,  and  live  like  a  gentleman,"  said  Jack,  spouting 
out  the  Latin  phrase  with  astounding  emphasis. 

"  I  intend  to  be  a  farmer,"  answered  Harvey, 
coolly. 


108  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

"A  farmer?  You  are  joking,"  retorted  Stack- 
pole. 

"  I  am  in  sober  earnest.  But  here  comes  Aunty 
Dotty's  dessert  —  mince  pies,  of  course." 

"  And  other  things  to  match,"  said  Jack,  rolling 
his  one  eye  around  upon  the  "  goodies."  "  But 
where's  your  wine,  Harvey  ?  " 

"  Aunty  and  I  go  for  temperance." 

"  But  give  us  at  least  a  bottle  of  champagne," 
said  Jack. 

"  I  haven't  such  an  article  in  the  house." 

"  Now,  that's  real  mean,  I  say,  when  you  can  so 
well  afford  it,"  was  the  rude  remark  of  bully  Jim- 
son,  to  which  Harvey  deigned  no  reply. 

"  You  haven't  asked  how  we  happened  to  be  here 
to-day,"  said  Stackpole,  willing  to  change  the  sub 
ject. 

"  No.     How  did  it  happen  ?  " 

"  We're  on  a  spree.  Jack  lives  twenty  miles  off 
from  this  place.  I  am  spending  part  of  my  holi 
days  with  him.  So  this  morning  we  saw  a  fine 
horse  and  a  new  sleigh  standing  before  the  tavern. 
Says  Jack,  '  Suppose  we  jump  in,  and  take  a  drive, 
and  I'll  pay  all  expenses.'  So  we  tumbled  in,  and 
drove  here  like  the  mischief." 

"But  what  will  the  owner  say,  when  he  misses 
his  horse  and  sleigh?  I  am  afraid  yon  will  get 
into  trouble,  even  if  you  do  pay  for  the  use  of 
them,"  said  Harvey. 


UNWELCOME    FRIENDS.  109 

"  lie  may  whistle  for  his  pay,"  said  Jack.  "  He 
will  be  at  the  tavern  all  day,  carousing  and  playing 
cards,  and  by  the  time  he  wants  to  go  home  we 
shall  be  there." 

"  A  very  bad  spree,  as  you  call  it.  Let  me  ad 
vise  you  to  hasten  home,"  said  Harvey,  gravely. 

"  I  see  you  want  to  get  rid  of  us  as  soon  as  pos 
sible,  Mr.  Amadore.  Order  my  horse  to  the  door, 
if  you  please,"  angrily  blurted  out  Jack  Jimson. 

"Where  does  Clarenth  Wo  the  live?"  inquired 
Stackpole,  with  a  malicious  grin. 

"  About  half  a  "mile  from  this  place  ;  but  I  hope 
you  don't  intend  paying  him  a  visit,"  anxiously  re 
plied  Harvey. 

"  I  shall  do  what  I  please  about  that,  without 
asking  your  leave,"  said  Jack,  tossing  back  his  head 
like  a  vicious  horse,  and  regarding  Harvey  spite 
fully  with  his  one  eye. 

The  equipage  was  soon  at  the  door.  Jack,  hav 
ing  obtained  more  direct  information,  with  regard  to 
the  dwelling-place  of  Clarence,  of  the  man  who 
held  his  horse,  threw  him  a  sixpence,  and  drove  off, 
making  a  haughty  bow  to  Harvey,  who  stood  upon 
the  door-step,  anxiously  watching  to  see  what  direc 
tion  the  two  scamps  would  take. 


110  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

CHAPTER    XVII. 

A   SHOWER   BATH. 

WHEN  Clarence  heard  the  sleigh-bells  approach 
ing  the  cottage,  he  suspected  his  quondam  school 
mates  were  coming  to  pay  him  a  visit.  Hastily  he 
retreated  to  his  small  bedroom,  took  up  a  book,  and 
told  his  sister  to  say  he  was  engaged,  and  could  not 
see  them. 

Soon  the  horse  was  stopped,  and  Stackpole,  get 
ting  out  of  the  sleigh,  rapped  loudly  at  the  door. 

"  Is  Clarenth  Wothe  at  home?"  asked  Stackpole 
rudely  of  Lucy,  who  opened  the  door. 

"  If  you  mean  my  brother,  he  is  at  home ;  but 
he  is  engaged  at  present,  and  cannot  see  you,"  said 
Lucy,  in  her  own  gentle,  sweet  manner. 

"  Haw,  haw,  haw  !  "  shouted  Jack,  with  his  usual 
loud  horse-laugh.  "  So  Dolly-boy  is  still  trying  to 
play  the  gentleman.  That's  too  ridiculous." 

Mrs.  Paverley  was  not  at  home,  and  Lucy,  not 
knowing  how  else  to  defend  herself  from  their  im 
pertinence,  closed  and  locked  the  door. 

"  Take  up  that  stick  of  wood  and  give  a  rousing 
thump  on  the  old  door,"  said  Jack  to  his  companion. 

Stackpole  obeyed  his  master,  for  such  indeed  was 
Jack  to  him. 


'  So  you  thought  you'd  take  a  sliowrr -bath  this  warm  day." 

Page  111. 


A    SHOWER    BATH.  Ill 

Peter  now  sprang  from  the  settle  where  he  had 
been  seated,  and  without  considering  his  lameness, 
seized  a  bucket  of  water,  and  suddenly  opening  the 
door,  threw  the  contents  of  the  bucket  over  Stack- 
pole,  drenching  him  from  head  to  foot ;  and  then 
the  door  was  quickly  closed  and  locked  again. 

Stackpole  stood  shivering  and  shaking,  while  the 
merciless  Jack  laughed  tremendously  at  the  misfor 
tune  of  his  so-called  friend. 

So  completely  were  they  occupied  with  what  was 
going  on  at  the  cottage,  that  the  runaway  boys  did 
not  notice  the  stealthy  approach  of  a  large  sleigh 
with  a  pair  of  horses  without  bells.  Two  stout 
men  were  in  the  sleigh.  One  of  them  sprang  out 
when  at  a  short  distance  from  Jack,  and  stepping 
up  to  the  boy,  who  was  laughing  at  Stackpole, 
seized  him  by  the  shoulder,  calling  him  a  "  thief," 
with  oaths  that  need  not  be  repeated. 

"  So  you  thought  you'd  take  a  shower-bath  this 
warm  day,"  shouted  the  other  man  to  the  dripping 
Stackpole. 

The  man  who  had  seized  Jack  by  the  shoulder 
was  the  owner  of  the  horse  and  sleigh  which  the 
boys  had  stolen ;  and  he  now  jumped  in  beside 
Jack,  and  seizing  the  reins,  drove  off  at  full  speed. 

Meantime,  the  other  man  ordered  Stackpole  to 
get  into  the  larger  sleigh  with  him  ;  and  when  the 
shivering  Stackpole  obeyed,  the  man  humanely 
wrapped  him  in  a  buffalo  skin,  saying,  with  a  laugh, 


112  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

"  If  I  didn't  do  this  you  would  have  an  ice-coat  on 
before  the  end  of  the  journey.  Now  you  can  take  a 
sweat.  Sam  Thurston,  the  owner  of  yonder  horse 
and  sleigh,  said  he'd  make  the  runaways  sweat  for  it." 

"  It  was  all  his  doings,  Ja.ck  Jimson's.  I  never 
should  have  thought  of  such  a  thing  if  it  hadn't  been 
for  Jack  ;  and  he  promised  to  pay  all  expenses." 

Just  as  it  might  have  been  expected,  the  mean, 
cringing  Stackpole  threw  all  the  blame  upon  his 
companion. 

Such  is  the  friendship  between  men  and  boys  of 
base,  degraded  minds  and  hearts. 

The  drive  of  twenty  miles  was  far  from  an  agree 
able  one  ;  and  when  the  man  who  carried  Jack  to 
his  home  gave  in  his  bill  for  the  use  of  the  horse 
and  sleigh,  the  father  was  astonished  at  the  amount ; 
but  fearing  his  son  might  receive  some  worse  pun 
ishment  if  he  refused,  he  paid  it,  hoping  that  he 
should  be  able  to  induce  Stackpole  to  pay  a  part  of  it. 

When  that  forlorn  individual  arrived,  about  half 
an  hour  after  Jack,  it  was  quite  late  ;  and  poor 
Stackpole  was  so  exhausted  that  he  could  scarcely 
move.  The  man  was  obliged  to  lift  him  out  and 
carry  him  into  the  house. 

When  it  was  explained  to  Mrs.  Jimson  that  the 
boy  had  been  drenched  with  cold  water,  and  after 
wards  had  a  drive  of  twenty  miles  on  a  freezing 
day,  she  was  seriously  alarmed,  arid  a  warm  bed 
and  warm  tea  were  prepared  for  him. 


A    SHOWER    BATH.  113 

When  lie  was  thus  made  comfortable,  Mrs.  Jim- 
son  went  to  the  room  where  he  was,  and  inquired 
how  he  felt,  and  whether  she  should  send  for  a  phy 
sician. 

"  I  don't  want  a  doctor,"  was  the  reply ;  "he 
would  have  to  be  paid.  I  am  not  going  to  be  sick, 
and  I  won't  take  nasty  medicine." 

"  I  hope  you  are  not  going  to  be  ill,"  said  Mrs. 
Jimson,  kindly. 

"  Jack  got  me  into  all  this  trouble.  I  shouldn't 
have  thought  of  taking  the  sleigh  if  he  hadn't  pro 
posed  it.  And  going  to  see  that  contemptible  fel 
low,  Clarence  Hose,  was  his  doing,  and  is  the  rea 
son  why  I  almost  got  my  death  of  cold." 

Contemptible !  Who  was  contemptible  now  ? 
Mean,  sneaking  Stackpole  Clap. 

Boys  generally  detest  meanness.  A  generous, 
noble  spirit,  in  youth,  has  been  a  distinguishing 
trait  in  the  character  of  all  truly  great  men.  You 
would  as  soon  expect  a  stunted  mountain-cedar  to 
grow  up  into  a  noble,  far-spreading  elm  tree,  as  for 
a  mean  boy  to  become  a  generous,  benevolent 
man. 

No,  indeed.  Mean  boys  make  hatefully  mean 
men.  Some  become  niggardly  misers,  and  some 
servile  politicians,  instead  of  honest  statesmen ; 
others,  sneaking  pettifoggers,  instead  of  honorable 
lawyers.  The  germ  of  character  manifests  itself 
early  in  life. 


114  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

Now,  Stackpole  Clap  was  what  Shakespeare  calls 
a  "  sncakup."  He  was  always  ready  to  join  in  any 
diversion,  or  feast,  when  other  boys  were  to  pay  the 
cost.  He  was  always  the  retainer  or  hanger-on  of 
the  strongest  boy  in  the  school,  because  he  was  a 
coward.  He  tried  to  be  the  companion  of  the  most 
popular  boys,  because  lie  had  no  admirers  of  his 
own  ;  and  he  courted  the  rich  boys,  because  he  could 
not  appreciate  worth  that  could  not  be  counted  in 
dollars  and  cents. 

Jack  Jimson  was  a  fighting  bully,  a  bad  fellow  ; 
but  he  was  at  this  time  a  pink  in  comparison  with 
Stackpole  Clap,  in  the  estimation  of  noble-hearted 
boys,  though,  in  fact,  the  tendencies  of  his  charac 
ter  were  more  dangerous. 

Mrs.  Jimson  left  the  room,  which  she  had  entered 
to  comfort  and  cheer  the  sufferer,  utterly  disgusted 
with  the  boy ;  and  unhappy  as  she  was  at  the  mis 
conduct  of  her  own  son,  she  was  thankful  that  he  was 
not  like  that  ungrateful  cub  whom  Jack  had  al 
lowed  to  be  his  companion.  This  was  quite  natu 
ral  to  a  mother,  and  with  a  mother's  tender  feeling 
she  thought  the  father  quite  severe  upon  Jack,  after 
she  had  made  the  comparison  between  the  two 
boys. 

Yet  she  was  mistaken.  Mr,  Jimson  was  not  too 
severe.  He  paid  a  large  sum  to  the  owner  of  the 
horse  and  sleigh,  and  deprived  Jack  of  pocket- 
money  for  half  a  year.  Moreover,  he  sentenced 


STRONG    MEW.  115 

him  to  be  shut  up  in  a  small  room  in  the  fourth 
story  for  a  month,  to  be  spent  in  entire  solitude, 
supplied  with  his  ordinary  food  and  an  abundance 
of  good  books.  He  was  not  allowed  to  see  Stack- 
pole,  even  to  bid  him  good  by. 

That  miserable  fellow  recovered  in  a  few  days, 
and  was  sent  home,  to  pass  there  the  remainder  of 
the  holidays.  A  letter  of  advice  from  Mr.  Jimson 
to  Mrs.  Clap,  who  was  a  widow,  the  boy  carried 
home  with  him,  and  delivered  it  to  his  mother. 
Bitterly  she  wept  over  that  letter,  for  Stackpole 
was  her  only  child,  and  she  had  made  a  great  sacri 
fice  in  sparing  him  from  home  to  give  him  an  edu 
cation.  She  was,  however,  in  comfortable  circum 
stances,  and  there  was  no  reason  in  the  world  why 
Stackpole  should  be  such  an  unmitigatedly  mean 
fellow. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

STRONG-   MEN. 

AFTER  Harvey  returned  to  school,  he  wrote  to  his 
excellent  guardian,  Mr.  Hosea  Fenton,  describing 
Clarence  Rose,  his  early  education,  and  the  charac 
ter  that  had  been  induced  by  it,  and  asking  advice 
about  what  he,  Harvey,  should  do  for  his  friend. 
In  a  short  time  he  received  the  following  letter  :  — 


116  TRUE    MANLIJVESS. 

Mr.  Hosea  Fenton  to  Harvey  Amadore  :  — 

NEW  YORK,  January  10, 18—. 

MY  DEAR  HARVEY  :  Your  frank  and  confiden 
tial  letter  of  the  6th  inst.  was  duly  received.  In 
reply,  I  give  you  the  best  advice  of  which  I  am 
capable. 

In  our  great  republic  we  need  strong  men  — 
men  of  physical  strength,  men  of  mental  strength, 
men  of  moral  strength.  You  know  boys  are  to  be 
educated  with  reference  to  their  manhood.  Your 
young  friend  is  effeminate.  More's  the  pity.  We 
have  an  abundance  of  such  weak  timber  —  mere 
willow  saplings.  We  want  "  hearts  of  oak."  We 
want  real  Spartans. 

I  would  not  have  our  sickly  children  carried  away 
to  caverns  to  die,  or  drowned  in  the  ocean ;  but  I 
would  have  strict  attention  paid  to  their  physical 
development. 

You  know  that  the  Spartan  boys  were  sent  to 
school,  when  they  were  no  more  than  seven  years 
old,  to  be  taught  how  to  wrestle  and  be  brave  at 
fisticuffs,  so  that  they  might  make  first-rate  fighters. 
They  were  educated  to  be  mere  soldiers  ;  that  was 
unwise,  wrong. 

You  know  the  Spartan  urchins  wore  the  same 
clothing,  as  to  warmth,  summer  and  winter.  They 
lay  on  hard  beds,  and  they  often  had  to  go  without 
their  dinner. 

Now,  this  last  I  don't  approve  of ;  but  I  do  ap- 


STRONG    MEAT,  117 

prove  of  temperance,  strict  temperance  in  food  and 
drink.  None  of  your  gluttons  or  guzzletonians  for 
me.  Parents  are  greatly  to  blame  who  allow  their 
children  to  cloy  their  appetites  with  cakes,  sweet 
meats,  and  confectionery.  Weak  stomachs  are  the 
consequence,  and  flaccid  muscles,  and  sappy  heads.* 

You  know  how  the  Spartan  boys  were  flogged, 
half  out  of  their  lives,  to  learn  how  to  bear  pain. 
Nay,  they  were  sometimes  beaten  to  death  without 
uttering  a  groan.  The  Spartan  mothers  must  have 
been  rather  hard-hearted  —  very  different,  indeed, 
from  the  too  soft-hearted  mothers  of  our  day,  or 
they  would  have  raised  an  awful  outcry  against 
such  cruel  proceedings. 

We  need  Athenian  refinement  to  soften  down 
Spartan  hardihood. 

Better  far  the  Christian  hardihood  like  that  of 
the  apostle  Paul.  He  made  "  that  determined, 
almost  proud  resolve,  c  I  will  not  be  brought  under 


*  "  A  certain  degree  of  selfishness  is  likely  to  be  somehow  devel 
oped  in  children,  for  sin  of  every  kind  is  selfish;  but  the  lowest, 
meanest,  and  most  utterly  degraded  type  of  selfishness  is  the  sen 
sual—that  which  centres  in  the  body,,  and  makes  everything  bend 
to  bodily  sensation.  And  yet  the  early  feeding  and  growth  of  chil- 
drpu  tend  —  how  often  !  —  to  just  this,  and  nothing  higher.  *  * 

"This  training  he  will  quite  seldom  or  never  outgrow;  on  the 
contrary,  it  will  overgrow  him,  and  subjugate  all  nobler  impulses 
in  him.  Kindness,  it  may  be,  has  done  it ;  but  it  is  that  kindness 
which  is  better  called  cruelty.  Coarseness  of  feeling,  lowuess  of 
impulse,  gluttony,  dissipation,  drunkenness,  —  all  foul  passions 
that  kennel  in  a  sensual  soul,  —  it  has  cherished  as  a  foster-mother." 

II  OK  ACE  BUSHNELL. 


118  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

the  power  of  any.'  Under  the  body  ?  No ;  he 
will  scorn  that  low  kind  of  thraldom.  Meats, 
drinks,  appetites?  None  of  these  shall  have  the 
mastery  over  him.  He  will  assert  the  supreme 
right  of  the  soul,  or  person,  above  the  house  it  lives 
in  ;  so,  God's  preeminent  right  in  the  soul." 

How  else  could  Paul  have  endured  such  terrible 
physical  suffering?  He  says,  "Of  the  Jews  five 
times  received  I  forty  stripes  save  one  ;  thrice  was 
I  beaten  with  rods ;  once  wras  I  stoned ;  thric.e  I 
suffered  shipwreck  ;  a  night  and  a  day  have  I  been 
in  the  deep ;  in  weariness  and  painfulness ;  in 
watchings  often  ;  in  cold  and  nakedness." 

Brave,  heroic  St.  Paul !  Never  would  he  have 
become  "  Paul  the  aged,"  if  his  early  life  had  not 
rendered  him  strong  in  body  to  endure  such  a  fear 
ful  amount  of  physical  suffering.  His  trade  as  a 
tent-maker  had  strengthened  his  muscles. 

Much  is  said  in  these  days  about  muscular  train 
ing.  Dumb-bells  may  do  well  enough  for  those  who 
haven't  a  chance  to  swing  an  axe,  and  wooden  clubs 
for  those  who  haven't  the  opportunity  to  handle  the 
spade  and  the  plough.  I  contend  it  is  better  to 
harden  the  muscles  by  labor,  which  has  a  useful  re 
sult,  than  that  which  is  merely  beating  the  air. 
Yet  gymnastics  aVe  good  in  their  place. 

You  will  best  subserve  the  true  interest  of  your 
friend  by  leaving  him,  at  present,  in  the  station  of 
life  to  which  God  has  called  him.  If  he  has  talents 


STROJVO    MEJY.  119 

for  some  other  station,  they  will  be,  in  time,  devel 
oped.  President  Lincoln  was  not  designed  to  be  all 
his  life  a  rail-splitter.  David,  the  shepherd  boy,  was 
not  always  to  be  a  keeper  of  sheep. 

Say  to  your  friend,  in  the  strong  language  of  a 
modern  author,  "  Your  life  is  a  school,  exactly 
adapted  to  your  lesson,  and  that  to  the  best,  last 
end  of  your  existence.  No  room  for  a  discouraged 
or  a  depressed  feeling  therefore  is  left  you.  If  your 
sphere  is  outwardly  humble,  if  it  even  appears  to 
be  quite  insignificant,  God  understands  it  better 
than  you  do,  and  it  is  a  part  of  his  wisdom  to  bring 
out  great  sentiments  in  humble  conditions,  great 
characters  under  great  adversities  and  heavy  loads 
of  encumbrance.  The  tallest  saints  of  God  will 
often  be  those  who  walk  in  the  deepest  obscurity, 
and  are  even  despised  or  quite  overlooked  by  man. 
Whatever  you  have  laid  upon  you  to  do  or  to 
suffer,  whatever  to  want,  whatever  to  surrender,  or 
to  conquer,  is  exactly  best  for  you. 

"  Away,  then,  with  all  feeble  complaints,  all  mea 
gre  and  mean  anxieties.  Understand,  also,  that  the 
great  question  here  is  not  what  you  will  get,  but 
what  you  will  become.  The  greatest  wealth  you 
can  ever  get  will  be  in  yourself.  Take  your  bur 
dens,  and  losses,  and  wrongs,  if  come  they  must 
and  will,  as  your  opportunities,  knowing  that  God 
has  girded  you  for  greater  things  than  these." 

Your  friend  is  fond  of  dress.  He  will  then  inev 
itably  have  a  craving  for  money,  to  gratify  his  taste 


120  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

for  finery,  and  other  luxuries,  and  for  show  of  all 
kinds.  This  must  be  crushed  out.  Alas  !  extrav 
agance  is  the  insatiable  monster  gnawing  at  the 
very  vitals  of  our  community.  For  the  attainment 
of  wealth  what  immense  efforts  are  made,  what 
awful  sacrifices  endured !  The  King  of  Dahomey, 
who  revels  in  murder  and  every  abominable  crime, 
is  said  to  be  intensely  fond  of  dress.  Savages  gen 
erally  are  so.  It  is  said,  too,  to  be  a  feminine 
weakness.  A  man,  a  whole-souled,  noble  man, 
should  despise  such  weakness  in  himself.  To  be 
neat  in  person,  and  dressed  according  to  fitness,  — 
that  is,  the  station  in  life  and  the  means,  —  is  abso 
lutely  required  of  every  man.  Effeminate  fops, 
with  diamond  rings  and  delicate  white  kid  gloves, 
are  not  the  kind  of  beings  we  need  in  our  republic. 

While  laboring  with  the  hands  faithfully,  your 
friend  can  still  go  on  with  the  cultivation  of  his 
mind.  He  may  make  that  his  recreation  at  odd 
times.  This  is  needed  to  counteract  the  other  in 
fluence —  I  mean  of  strengthening  the  muscles. 
We  don't  want  gladiators,  prize-fighters,  pugilists. 
We  want  the  mens  sana  in  corpore  sano. 

Moreover,  and  above  all,  we  want  good,  strong 
Christian  men  —  men  of  strong  will  to  do  right,  in 
subjection  to  the  will  of  God  —  men  of  integrity 
—  that  is,  whole,  out-and-out  Christians,  better  in 
every  respect  as  men  and  citizens,  because  they  are 
Christians.  "  More  has  always  been  done  for  God 
and  man  by  acts  than  by  words." 


STRONG    MEW.  121 

And  another  of  my  favorite  authors  says,  that 
"  the  greatness  or  smallness  of  a  man  is,  in  the  most 
conclusive  sense,  determined  for  him  at  his  birth,  as 
strictly  as  it  is  determined  for  a  fruit,  whether  it  is 
to  be  a  currant  or  an  apricot.  Education,  favorable 
circumstances,  resolution,  and  industry  can  do  much  ; 
in  a  certain  sense  they  do  everything ;  that  is  to 
say,  whether  the  poor  apricot  shall  fall  in  the  form 
of  a  green  bead,  blighted  by  an  east  wind,  shall  be 
trodden  under  foot,  or  whether  it  shall  expand  into 
tender  pride  and  sweet  brightness  of  golden  velvet. 
But  apricot  out  of  currant,  great  men  out  of  small, 
did  never  yet  art  or  effort  make.  The  small  fruits 
in  their  serviceable  bunches,  the  great  in  their 
golden  isolation,  have,  the  one  no  cause  for  regret, 
nor  the  other  for  disdain." 

And  now,  my  dear  Harvey,  you  must  pardon 
me  for  taxing  you  with  so  long  an  epistle.  Show  it 
to  your  friend  if  you  think  best.  Aid  him  in  every 
way  with  money,  advice,  and,  above  all,  example ; 
but  let  him  remain  with  his  family ;  there  is  the 
place  for  him  at  present ;  and,  above  all,  let  him 
help  himself. 

"Let  us,  then,  be  up  and  doing, 

With  a  heart  for  any  fate, 
Still  achieving,  still  pursuing, 

Learn  to  labor  and  to  wait." 

Faithfully  your  friend, 

HOSEA  FENTON. 


122  TRUE  MANLINESS. 

Harvey  enclosed  his  guardian's  letter  in  one  of 
his  own,  and  sent  it  to  Clarence. 

Harvey's  own  letter  was  as  follows  :  — 

MY  DEAR  CLARENCE  :  You  will  find  enclosed 
Mr.  Hosea  Fenton's  letter  of  good  advice.  We 
boys  don't  much  relish  advice,  and  yet  we  need  it 
nowr  as  much  as  we  needed  the  rod  when  we  were 
toddling  youngsters.  I  remember  the  tinglings  of 
the  rod,  and  am  sure  the  smart  did  me  good ;  so 
advice  sometimes  makes  us  smart,  but  we  ought  to 
profit  by  it. 

My  good  guardian  is  a  plain-spoken,  honest  man, 
and  I  trust  you  will  not  be  offended  by  his  frank 
ness. 

I  send  you  the  "  Life  of  Stevenson,"  the  famous 
inventor  of  steam  carriages,  and  another  volume  en 
titled  "  Lives  of  Eminent  Mechanics."  You  will 
find  that  many  of  the  men,  who  became  useful  and 
distinguished,  had  to  surmount  immense  obstacles. 

I  have  not  much  school  news  to  communicate. 

Mr.  Warren  found  Stackpole  Clap  such  a  disa 
greeable  member  of  our  family  circle  that  he  Avas 
obliged  to  send  him  home.  After  his  return  to 
school,  instead  of  being  better  for  the  loss  of  his 
crony,  Jack  Jimson,  he  became  much  worse  than 
formerly  in  endeavoring  to  imitate  Jack ;  he  beat 
the  copy,  as  we  say  :  not  in  daring,  but  in  insolence. 
He  was  excessively  impertinent  to  Mrs.  Warren, 


STRONG    MEN.  123 

and  tormented  and  embarrassed  me,  by  being  a 
constant  hanger-on  and  an  egregious  flatterer. 

We  are  all  glad  to  be  freed  from  his  intensely 
disagreeable  presence.  I  am  very  sorry  for  his 
mother,  for  I  am  told  she  does  not  know  what  to  do 
with  her  troublesome  son. 

Have  you  conquered  the  S,  as  you  did  the  R? 
In  this,  as  in  many  other  things,  C'est  le  premier 
pas  qui  coute  —  Perseverantia  vincit  omnia. 

Don't  call  me  a  pedant ! 

I  expect  to  be  at  home  before  many  weeks.     Mr. 

"Warren  advises  me  to  go  to College ;  not  for 

the  whole  academical  course,  but  for  the  scientific 
department  alone.  A  knowledge  of  chemistry, 
mineralogy,  geology,  &c.,  he  says,  is  very  important 
for  a  farmer. 

Remember  me  kindly  to  your  mother  and  sister, 
and  believe  me,  Clarence, 

Truly  your  friend, 

HAKVEY  AMADORE. 


124  TRUE   MANLINESS. 

CHAPTER    XIX. 

CONQUERING   DIFFICULTIES. 

THE  latter  part  of  the  winter  of  18 —  was  very 
severe.  In  consequence  of  Pete's  lameness,  Clar 
ence  was  obliged  to  do  all  the  out-door  work,  and 
to  wait  upon  his  brother  in  many  ways  —  very 
trying  to  one  who  had  always  been  accustomed  to 
be  waited  upon  himself.  Although  so  weary  when 
evening  closed  in,  that  he  was  in  danger  of  felling 
asleep,  he  became  interested  in  the  books  furnished 
by  Harvey,  and  listened  while  Lucy  or  his  brother 
read  aloud. 

It  was  a  great  source  of  mortification  to  Clarence 
that  Peter  could  read  out  better  than  he  could,  be 
cause  his  brother  did  not  lisp,  and  had  a  good, 
strong  voice. 

Peter  had  been  to  school  only  two  winters  ;  yet  he 
had  learned  to  read  well  and  to  write  a  tolerable 
hand  :  he  had,  besides,  made  some  advance  in  arith 
metic,  and  now  set  about  improving  himself  with  a 
zeal  which  quite  astonished  Clarence,  and  stimulated 
him  to  exert  himself. 

When  the  wintry  storm  howled  about  the  cottage, 
and  the  snow  was  driven  furiously  against  the  win 
dows,  the  scene  within  was  bright  and  cheery. 


CONQUERING    DIFFICULTIES.  125 

The  stove  sent  forth  its  genial  warmth.  Two 
tallow  candles  on  the  pine  table  did  not  mate  a 
brilliant  light,  but  it  was  quite  sufficient  for  the 
readers. 

Mrs.  Paverley  was  employed  with  her  knitting, 
and  Lucy  with  sewing,  while  Pete  read  out  to  them. 
Clarence,  to  keep  himself  awake,  set  about  whittling 
a  winding-reel  and  a  work-box  for  his  sister. 

This  was  a  fine  time  for  softening  down  the 
roughness  of  Pete's  character. 

As  for  Clarence,  he  was  thriving  on  plain  diet  and 
hard  w^ork.  He  began  to  grow  amazingly,  both  in 
height  and  breadth.  His  narrow  chest  was  expand 
ing,  and  his  shoulders  becoming  broad.  He  cried 
only  now  and  then,  when  his  fingers  ached  cruelly, 
or  the  tips  of  his  ears  were  frozen.  Who  wouldn't 
cry  under  such  circumstances,  excepting,  always, 
those  tough-skinned,  wonderful  Spartan  boys  ? 

Clarence  was  taking  lessons  of  his  sister  in  elocu 
tion.  Like  Demosthenes,  he  had  a  great  difficulty 
to  be  overcome  in  the  art  of  speaking.  He  did  not, 
like  that  famous  orator,  put  pebbles  in  his  mouth, 
nor  roar  to  the  sea  till  he  was  himself  as  hoarse 
as  the  waves  dashing  against  a,  rocky  coast.  He 
hissed  and  sissed,  keeping  his  teeth  tightly  shut  to 
hold  his  tongue  in,  until  at  last  he  could  say  sister 
—  the  first  word  he  uttered  without  lisping  ;  and  it 
ought  to. have  been,  for  Lucy  had  taken  unwearied 
pains  with  him  to  conquer  this  defect  in  his  speech. 


126  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

Glad  was  Clarence  when  the  winter  was  over, 
and  showery  April,  the  month  of  smiles  and  tears, 
was  renovating  the  earth  and  clothing  it  with  a  new 
verdant  mantle. 

One  sunny  day,  a  face  as  sunny  and  bright  was 
heartily  welcomed  at  the  cottage. 

"  I  am  right  glad  to  see  you,  Harvey,"  said  Clar 
ence,  laying  a  strong  emphasis  upon  the  "  see." 

Harvey  smiled,  made  no  remark  upon  the  suc 
cess  thus  achieved,  but  replied,  — 

"  Thank  you.  I  find  you  are  busy  this  morning  ; 
a  fine  morning  for  gardening." 

Clarence  was  digging  in  the  small  garden  at 
tached  to  the  cottage. 

"Do -you  think  you  will  like  gardening?"  in 
quired  Harvey,  in  a  manner  showing  he  attached 
importance  to  the  answer. 

"  Yes.  I  shall  like  it  better  than  anything  I 
have  had  to  do  since  I  left  cool  (correcting  himself, 
and  coloring)  —  since  I  left  school." 

Then  throwing  down  his  spade,  he  asked  Harvey 
to  go  in  and  see  his  mother  and  sister. 

Harvey  declined,  saying  he  had  a  pressing  en 
gagement,  to  which  he  must  give  immediate  atten 
tion. 

About  two  hours  after  Harvey  left,  Clarence  was 
still  digging  in  the  garden.  Pete  had  just  returned 
from  the  village  where  he  had  carried  the  week's 
washing,  and  was  putting  Patchy  into  the  small 


CONQUERING    DIFFICULTIES.  127 

stable.  A  man  appeared  on  the  road  driving  a 
small  white  cow  and  a  calf,  which  frisked  in  its 
own  awkward  fashion  beside  its  mother. 

"  What  a  beautiful  cow  !  "  exclaimed  Pete. 

"  Is  this  Mrs.  Paverley's?  "  cried  the  man,  from 
the  road. 

"It  is,"  shouted  Pete,  while  Clarence  threw 
down  his  spade,  approached  the  man,  and  looked 
anxiously  at  the  two  animals. 

"Here's  a  bit  of  paper  will  'splain  all  about  the  cow 
and  calf.  Where  shall  I  drive  'em  ?  "  said  the  man. 

Now,  Pete  had  never  heard  of  Harvey's  promise 
to  Clarence,  and  was  utterly  astonished  when  his 
brother,  after  glancing  at  the  note,  said,  — 

"  Drive  them  into  the  barn." 

The  note  contained  these  few  words  : 

CLAKENCE  :  You  have  conquered !  One  con 
quest  is  a  sign  of  more.  The  cow  and  calf  are 
yours,  honestly  won.  Truly  your  friend, 

HAKVEY. 

Clarence  was  moderately  pleased,  but  Pete's  joy 
knew  no  bounds.  He  proved  the  recovered  strength 
of  his  ankle  by  jumping  up  and  down,  and  the 
strength  of  his  lungs  by  shouting  at  the  top  of  his 
voice,  "  Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  What  an  elegant  cow  !  " 

Like  many  persons  more  refined  than  himself, 
Pete  did  not  understand  the  right  use  of  the  epithet 
"  elegant"  —  a  word,  the  true  signification  of  which 


128  TRUE 

seeins  not  to  be  well  understood  in  some  parts  of 
our  country,  where  they  speak  of  elegant  butter, 
elegant  potatoes,  and  an  elegant  pig  !  Webster  de 
fines  elegant  —  "delicately  refined,  graceful,  pleas 
ing  to  taste." 

If  the  cow  was  elegant,  and  the  calf  too,  in  the 
vocabulary  of  Pete,  so  was  not  Pete  himself,  accord 
ing  to  the  venerable  lexicographer. 

He,  Pete,  turned  two  or  three  summersaults, 
stood  on  his  head,  and  knocked  his  feet  together, 
and  when  he  came  down  on  the  right  end,  cut  a 
double-shuffle  that  could  not  have  been  excelled  by 
a  Carolina  negro.  The  calf  itself  might  have  per 
formed  these  antics  as  gracefully. 

Clarence  was  inclined  to  look  very  gravely  upon 
the  generous  gift  of  his  friend  Harvey,  it  not  cor 
responding  at  all  with  his  notions  of  elegance  ;  but 
Pete's  ridiculous  manifestations  of  joy  quite  over 
came  his  gravity,  and  his  hearty  laugh  was  echoed 
by  Lucy,  who,  on  hearing  Pete's  shouting,  had  has 
tened  to  learn  the  cause.  They  were  soon  joined 
by  the  mother,  who,  if  she  did  not  imitate  Pete  in 
his  manifestations,  was  equally  pleased.  With  up 
lifted  arms  she  exclaimed,  "  I  never !  I  never, 
never,  never ! " 

u  You  never  owned  so  pretty  a  cow,  mother," 
said  Clarence.  "  Well,  she  is  yours.  Harvey  has 
given  her  to  me  freely,  to  do  with  her  what  I  please, 
and  I  am  delighted  to  make  you  a  present." 

"  O,  no,  no,  no  !  "  exclaimed  the  mother. 


FLITTING.  129 

"Please  don't  refuse  my  gift.  And  Pete,  you 
may  have  the  calf." 

u  You  think  '  like  likes  its  like/  as  the  old  prov 
erb  has  it,"  replied  Pete  with  a  merry  laugh.  "  I 
will  take  care  of  the  thing  for  you  if  you'll  only 
give  me  some  hay  for  Whity.  There  ain't  grass 
enough  on  the  Common  for  her  yet,  and  Patchy 
mustn't  be  starved  entirely." 

"  I'll  provide  the  hay,"  said  Harvey,  pointing  to 
a  cart-load  of  hay  which  two  oxen  were  drawing 
into  the  barn-yard. 

u  That  Harvey  Amadore  is  a  whole  team  him 
self,"  exclaimed  Pete,  again  going  off  into  athletic 
exercises  unknown  to  the  practice  of  any  modern 
gymnasium ;  and  then  he  climbed  to  the  top  of  the 
load,  and  helped  to  pitch  the  hay  into  the  barn. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

FLITTING. 

HARVEY  consulted  with  his  excellent  guardian 
about  the  future  course  he  should  pursue  with 
regard  to  Clarence.  His  advice  was  very  judicious. 

Let  him  become  a  first-rate  gardener  ;  that  is,  if  he 
is  capable  of  it.     Make  a  trial  of  his  capacity.    I  was 
9 


130  TRUE    MJWLIJVESS. 

lately  at  the  Lindens.  I  observed  that  the  cottage 
formerly  occupied  by  the  gardener  is  now  vacant. 
Suppose  you  remove  the  Paverley  family  to  the 
place.  It  is  not  best  to  separate  them.  You  know 
how  much  force  there  is  in  the  trite  motto,  "  Union 
is  strength."  If  you  don't  know  it,  you  ought  to 
know  it ;  and  so  ought  every  man  and  boy  in  our 
United  States,  especially  at  this  time.  "Well,  to  the 
question  on  the  tapis.  Let  the  boy  you  call  your 
friend  learn  to  take  charge  of  your  flower  garden 
and  pleasure  grounds.  Let  the  other  boy  work  on 
the  farm.  The  mother  and  daughter  can  make 
butter  —  be  dairy  women.  Give  them  the  oppor 
tunity.  You  can  but  make  the  experiment.  The 
older  boy,  you  say,  has  taste  ;  that  is  quite  requisite 
for  a  gardener.  Give  him  an  opportunity  to  culti 
vate  it  with  reference  to  gardening.  Don't  spoil 
your  protege,  Harvey,  by  making  him  too  refined 
for  his  employment. 

I  could  say  more  on  this  subject,  but  for  want 
of  time  must  come  to  a  close. 

Truly  your  friend  and  guardian, 

HQSEA  FENTON." 

On  the  1st  of  May,  the  Paverley  family  were 
flitting  to  Linden  Hill.  The  mansion  and  grounds 
attached  to  the  place  bore  the  name  of  "The  Lin 
dens."  Harvey,  with  the  consent  of  his  guardian, 
had  left  school,  and  had  made  all  the  needful  arrange 
ments  for  the  removal  that  was  now  taking  place. 


FLITTING.  131 

It  was  for  Mrs.  Paverley  a  return  to  a  much- 
loved  home.  There  she  had  passed  the  happiest 
years  of  her  life  with  her  husband.  The  very  roses, 
honeysuckles,  and  clematis  now  spreading  them 
selves  luxuriantly  over  the  whole  front  and  ends  of 
the  cottage,  and  even  over  the  roof,  were  planted  by 
her  husband,  who  had  been  the  gardener  at  the 
Lindens. 

The  cottage  had  now  been  thoroughly  repaired, 
and  a  nice,  cool  dairy-room  and  ice-house  had  been 
added  to  it.  It  was  sufficiently  spacious  for  the 
accommodation  of  the  family,  having  four  rooms  on 
the  ground  floor  and  three  finished  bedrooms  in  the 
attic,  besides  an  open  garret-room. 

Mrs.  Paverley  lifted  her  hands  with  wonder  and 
delight  as  she  entered  the  little  parlor,  exclaiming, 
as  usual,  "  I  never  !  I  never  !  Who  would  have 
thought  it  ?  "  —  while  Lucy,  though  less  demonstra 
tive,  was  equally  pleased. 

A  pretty  green  and  white  paper  covered  the  wall ; 
three  or  four  engravings,  in  walnut  frames,  hung 
against  it.  The  chairs  and  tables  were  neat,  but 
plain.  But  what  most  delighted  Lucy  was  a  book 
case,  a  small  bookcase,  with  glass  doors,  completely 
filled  with  books.  Time  would  show  how  judi 
ciously  they  were  selected.  Clarence,  at  a  glance, 
perceived  that  many  of  them  were  upon  gardening, 
in  its  various  departments. 

Harvey  had   kept  himself  entirely  out  of  sight 


132  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

while  the  moving  was  taking  place.  Pete  seemed 
to  have  the  strength  of  a  young  giant,  as  he  assisted 
in  handling  the  heavy  boxes  and  barrels  which  con 
tained  the  articles  from  the  kitchen  and  pantry  of 
the  old  house,  and  lifting  them  from  the  cart  to  which 
Patchy  was  attached  (in  more  senses  than  one,  if 
close  companionship  could  have  had  that  effect). 
Patchy  was  no  longer  a  rack  of  bones,  —  prospec 
tive  crow's  meat ; — he  was  in  as  good  a  condition  as 
Pete  himself,  and  almost  as  full  of  life  and  spirit. 

Clarence  alone  showed  no  signs  of  joy.  The  con 
trast  between  this  pretty  cottage  and  the  poor  old 
brown  house  from  which  they  had  removed  was  not 
in  his  mind.  He  was  comparing  this  small,  simple 
habitation  with  the  fine  mansion  in  which  he  had 
passed  so  many  years  of  petted  indulgence.  To 
him,  therefore,  the  change  was  of  small  consequence. 
He  was  merely  enduring  the  present,  and  looking 
forward  to  the  future,  when  he  should  once  more 
revel  in  luxury. 

Clarence  had  carefully  kept  one  cherished  secret. 
Mrs.  Rose,  on  the  eve  of  her  departure,  wrote  to 
him,  assuring  him  that  whenever  Mr.  Rose  should 
make  a  fortune,  as  he  expected  to  do,  of  course,  in 
that  Eldorado,  California,  she  should  claim  Clarence 
again  as  her  son.  Month  after  month  passed,  and 
not  a  word  for  Clarence  from  Mr.  or  Mrs.  Rose. 
He  much  wondered  at  their  silence ;  but  still  hope 
was  the  rainbow  that  cheered  him  with  its  brilliant 


FLITTING.  133 

hues  —  brilliant  and  evanescent.  In  his  own  room 
tears  were  still  abundant.  Whatever  he  did  in  the 
way  of  work  was  done  in  a  perfunctory  manner ; 
there  was  no  heart  in  it.  Pete,  on  the  contrary, 
worked  with  a  will.  He  had  never  dreamed  of 
living  in  such  a  nice  cottage,  and  having  a  calf  of 
his  own.  He  was  as  "happy  as  a  lord"  —  poor 
comparison  that.  Pete  was  as  happy  as  a  hearty, 
active  boy,  with  a  cheerful  temperament  and  every 
real  want  supplied,  need  to  be.  He  could  not  under 
stand  why  Clarence  was  not  as  "raving  glad"  as 
Pete  said  he  was  himself,  when  they  were  settled  in 
the  white  cottage.  . 

It  was  the  6th  of  May.  As  lovely  a  twilight  as 
ever  cast  its  golden  hues  over  Eden  now  fell 
serenely  upon  Linden  Hill. 

The  white  cottage  was  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
from  the  mansion  on  the  hill,  which,  from  the  fine 
avenue  of  linden  trees,  was  appropriately  called 
The  Lindens. 

The  labor  of  setting  all  "to  rights"  in  the  cot 
tage  was  completed,  and  the  Paverley  family  were 
seated  in  the  latticed  porch,  at  the  front  door.  The 
perfume  of  violets  gladdened  the  air.  The  birds 
were  having  a  charming  concert  in  the  neighboring 
trees,  unmindful  of  the  added  bass  from  a  solitary 
bullfrog. 

"  I  say,  now,"  said  Pete,  "  all  this  seems  to  me 
a  queer  sort  of  a  dream  - —  a  very  funny  one  ;  and  I 


134  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

wonder  why  I  don't  wake  up  and  find  it  so.  It's 
real,  though,  for  there  co,mes  Mr.  Amadore." 

During  the  removal  and  until  this  time  Harvey 
had  not  made  his  appearance  at  the  cottage.  The 
family  rose  at  his  approach. 

"  Keep  your  seats,  I  beg  of  you ;  don't  let  me 
disturb  you.  I  will  sit  upon  this  step,  if  you 
please." 

Lucy  immediately  went  in  doors,  brought  out  a 
chair,  and  placed  it  upon  the  grass,  near  the  steps. 

u  Thank  you  ;  since  you  have  taken  that  trouble, 
I  can't  refuse,"  said  Harvey,  as  he  seated  himself. 
"  What  a  perfect  evening  !  "  he  continued.  "  I 
hope,  Mrs.  Paverley,  you  find  yourself  comfortably 
settled." 

"O,  Mr.  Harvey,  we  owe  you  so  much!"  ex 
claimed  the  grateful  woman. 

"  You  owe  me  nothing  —  " 

"No,"  interrupted  Pete,  "  we'don't  mean  to  owe 
anybody.  I  expect  to  work  for  my  living.  I  don't 
mean  to  be  a  hanger-on  to  anybody." 

"  That's  the  right  spirit,"  said  Harvey.  "  You 
are  not  dependent  upon  me.  I  expect  to  pay  you 
wages  by  the  month  for  your  work  on  the  farm,  and 
the  same  to  Clarence  for  gardening.  If  Mrs.  Pa 
verley  and  Lucy  find  the  work  of  the  dairy  too 
much  for  them,  I  know  of  a  stout  woman  who  can 
help  them." 

"  No,  indeed  !   We  are  used  to  hard  work.     I  was 


FLITTING.  135 

brought  up  on  a  farm,  and  can  make  butter  as  yellow 
as  gold  !  "  said  Mrs.  Paverley. 

"  Half  the  produce  of  the  dairy  will  belong  to 
you,  and  the  other  half  goes  to  the  credit  of  the 
farm.  Will  this  satisfy  you  all  ?  " 

"  Entirely,"  said  the  mother.  "  And  what  are 
we  to  pay  for  house-rent  ?  " 

"  This  cottage  has  always  been  free  to  the  gar 
dener.  It  is  so  now,  if  Clarence  agrees  to  the 
arrangement." 

Harvey  did  not  look  at  Clarence  as  he  said  this ; 
if  he.  had,  he  might  have  seen  two  unbidden  tears 
roll  over  a  pair  of  flushed  cheeks.  Alas  !  they  were 
not  tears  of  gratitude.  Pride  was  throbbing  at  the 
heart  of  the  boy,  and  with  a  voice  half  choked,  he 
muttered,  — 

"  Thank  you." 

Harvey  replied,  "  No  thanks  to  me,  Clarence.  I 
expect  to  have  to  thank  you  one  of  these  days.  You 
and  Pete  have  a  glorious  opportunity  for  helping 
yourselves,  and  becoming  strong  men  through  your 
own  exertions.  I  have  often  wished  that  I  could 
do  the  same,  and  win  my  way  against  wind  and 
tide ;  but  it  has  not  been  so  ordered,"  he  added, 
reverently,  "  and  I  must  try  to  do  the  best  I  can, 
God  helping  me,  in  the  position  in  which  he  has 
placed  me.  But  to  change  the  subject  somewhat 
abruptly,  if  you  will  come  to  the  Hall  to-morrow 
morning,  Clarence,  you  and  your  brother,  I  will 


136  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

make  you  acquainted  with  the  gardener  and  the 
farmer,  under  whose  directions  you  will,  for  the 
present,  be  placed." 

"  That  I  will,  after  I  have  taken  care  of  Whity 
and  Pet.  You  ought  to  see  my  calf — how  wonder 
ful  she  has  grown  in  a  month.  Would  you  be 
willing  to  step  to  the  barn,  and  look  at  the  pretty 
creature  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  Harvey,  starting  up,  ready  to 
follow  Pete.  "  Good  evening,  Mrs.  Paverley  ;  good 
evening,  Lucy.  Clarence,  will  you  go  with  us  ?  " 

u  No,  I  thank  you ;  I  haven't  the  same  admira 
tion  for  calves  that  Pete  has." 

There  was  more  of  the  puppy  in  Clarence  than 
he  himself  suspected,  or  than  his  true  friend  was 
willing  to  believe. 

So  Harvey  and  Pete  went  together  to  the  barn, 
and  Mrs.  Paverley  and  Lucy  into  the  cottage,  leav 
ing  Clarence  to  his  sulkiness ;  for  sulky  he  was, 
rather  than  sad ;  dissatisfied  with  himself,  and  with 
everybody  else. 

Buoyed  up  he  had  been  through  the  severe  win 
ter,  amid  all  his  trials,  by  the  hope  of  being  once 
more  with  his  indulgent  mamma,  when  he  ought  to 
have  been  grateful  for  the  kind,  good  mother  God 
had  given  him  —  a  blessing  beyond  all  price.  In 
her  extremity  she  had  parted  with  him,  but  she  had 
never  ceased  to  love  him,  and  to  pray  for  him. 

The  next  morning  the  countenance  of  Clarence 


FLITTING.  137 

had  assumed  a  more  pleasant  expression.  How 
could  he  resist  the  influence  of  such  a  beautiful 
morning,  when  all  nature  was  in  holiday  garb, 
rejoicing  in  the  sweet  breath  and  charming  melody 
of  the  renovating  spring? 

Though  his  taste  had  been  perverted  by  selfish 
ness,  and  all  that  was  bright  and  beautiful  had  been 
considered  mainly,  or  almost  entirely,  as  means  for 
his  personal  adornment,  yet  the  boy  possessed,  as  a 
good  gift,  taste,  which  needed  cultivation  and  a 
right  direction. 

Earth  was  not  made  so  beautiful  for  beasts  nor 
for  blind  men  —  morally  blind  ! 

As  the  boys  walked  rapidly  to  the  Lindens,  the 
thoughts  that  occupied  their  minds  were  widely 
different. 

Pete  thought,  "  What  a  nice  thing  to  be  a 
farmer  !  "  Clarence  thought,  "  What  a  miserable 
lot  is  mine,  to  be  a  gardener !  Arid  yet  it's  better 
than  being  a  farmer."  And  so  they  walked  on  in 
silence,  till  they  reached  the  great  gate  at  the  en 
trance  of  Linden  Hill.  There  Harvey  was  waiting 
for  them.  He  directed  Pete  to  a  distant  field,  where 
the  farmer  was  planting  potatoes. 

"  Tell  him  to  set  you  to  work,"  said  Harvey. 

Pete  ran  off  at  full  speed,  and  then  Harvey  led 
the  way  to  the  garden,  accompanied  by  Clarence. 
Harvey  did  not  appear  to  notice  the  discontented 
air  of  his  companion.  The  gardener  was  a  Scotch- 


138  TRUE   MANLINESS. 

man ;  a  small,  gray-headed  man,  with  a  shrewd 
countenance,  and  a  cheek  like  "  a  rose  ill  the  snaw." 
He  was  stooping  over  a  bed  of  hyacinths.  As  the 
two  boys  approached,  he  raised  himself,  and,  taking 
off  his  woollen  cap,  make  a  nod,  rather  than  a  bow. 

"  Sandy,  I  have  brought  the  lad  I  was  speaking 
to  you  about.  You  can  teach  him  gardening." 

Sandy  closed  one  eye,  and  with  the  other  scruti 
nized  Clarence  for  a  full  minute. 

"But,  mon,"  said  he,  addressing  Harvey,  uken 
ye.  if  the  lad  has  the  giftie  for  it?" 

"  We  shall  see ;  we  shall  see.  There's  nothing 
like  trying.  What  splendid  hyacinths  !  " 

The  attention  of  Clarence  had  been  drawn  to  the 
beautiful  array  of  flowers,  white,  pink,  purple,  yel 
low,  fresh  and  dewy,  rejoicing  in  the  bright  morn 
ing  sun. 

In  his  button-hole  Sandy  had  a  daisy,  and  Harvey 
remarked,  "  That  little  flower  seems  to  be  a  favor 
ite,  Sandy." 

"  And  wherefore  na'  ?  l  Wee  modest,  crimson- 
tippet  flower,'  as  Bobby  Burns  called  it.  Not  your 
American  daisy,  the"  uncanny  thing  that  spoils  the 
hay  in  this  country.  That  white-weed  is  not  a 
daisy." 

Sandy  saw  that  Clarence  was  admiring  the  hya 
cinths  heartily,  and  with  a  knowing  wink  to  Har 
vey,  whispered,  "He'll  do." 

"  I'll  leave  him  with  you,  Sandy,  to  show  him 


ALL    IS   JVOZ7    GOLD    THAT    GLITTERS.  139 

your  garden  and  green-house.     Good  morning,  Clar 
ence."     So  saying,  Harvey  walked  away. 

As  Sandy  turned  from  the  bed  of  hyacinths,  he 
beckoned  to  Clarence  to  follow  ;  and  as  Clarence  did 
so,  he  heard  the  old  man  repeating,  from  his  favorite 
Burns,  — 

"  To  catch  Dame  Fortune's  golden  smile, 

Assiduous  wait  upon  her ; 
And  gather  gear  by  every  wile 

That's  justified  by  honor  ; 
Not  for  to  hide  it  in  a  hedge, 

Not  for  a  train  attendant, 
But  for  the  glorious  privilege 

Of  being  independent." 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

ALL   IS   NOT    GOLD   THAT    GLITTERS. 

SPRING  had  decked  the  garden  at  the  Lindens 
with  her  choicest  flowers.  Summer,  not  to  be  out 
done,  spread  a  brighter,  gayer  tapestry  over  mother 
earth,  and  was  almost  ready  to  yield  up  her  reign 
to  Autumn,  when  Clarence  received  the  following 
letter :  — 

SAN  FUANCISCO,  March  30. 

MY  DEAR  CLARENCE  :  You  must  have  been 
troubled  by  not  hearing  from  us  for  so  long ;  but 


140  TRUE    JIMJYLIJYESS. 

we  had  a  very  long  and  stormy  passage,  —  seasick 
all  the  way,  —  and  did  not  arrive  till  nearly  five 
months  after  we  left  New  York,  going  by  the  way 
of  Cape  Horn.  O,  that  dreadful  voyage !  And 
now  I  did  hope  to  send  my  precious  something 
pretty  from  California  —  at  least  a  fine  gold  pin,  or 
a  ring ;  but,  Clarence,  we  are  poor.  Your  papa 
has  been  quite  sick  ever  since  we  have  been  here, 
and  hasn't  done  any  business  at  all ;  so  that  we 
arc  still  living  on  the  money  we  brought  with  us, 
and  now  that  is  nearly  gone.  I  don't  know  what 
we  shall  do  when  it  is  all  gone,  for  we  have  no 
relatives  or  friends  here. 

I  can't  think  of  you  without  tears,  suffering,  as 
you  must  be,  all  the  evils  of  poverty,  so  delicately 
and  genteelly  brought  up  as  you  have  been.  I  did 
hope  we  should  be  able  to  send  for  you  to  come  out 
to  us  ;  but  I  give  up  the  hope  now,  and  I  am  afraid 
I  shall  never  see  you  again. 

Your  papa  sends  love,  and  says,  "  Tell  Clarence 
to  keep  up  good  courage,  and  try  to  make  the  best 
of  his  situation.  A  boy  with  resolution  and  right 
principles  can  get  along  well  in  our  country,  if  he 
only  has  health.  Opportunities  arc  never  wanting 
to  those  who  are  ready  to  make  the  best  use  of 
them."  You  must  write  to  me,  my  darling,  and 
tell  me  all  about  yourself.  Have  you  grown  taller? 
I  hope  you  haven't  lost  your  pretty  complexion.  I 
should  be  sorry  to  sec  you  all  sun-burned  arid  coarse- 


ALL   IS   JV071    GOLD    THAT    GLITTERS.  141 

looking.  Don't  fail  to  brush  your  teeth,  and  to  keep 
your  nails  clean.  Remember  me  to  your  mother. 
I  hope  she  takes  good  care  of  your  clothes.  It  is  a 
comfort  to  me  to  think  you  had  nice  full  suits  of  all 
kinds  when  I  left  you.  I  think  they  must  last  a  good 
while.  And  now,  darling,  I  must  say  good  by. 
Ever  your  loving 

MAMMA. 

Tears  and  smiles  chased  each  other  over  the  face 
of  Clarence  as  he  read  this  characteristic  letter. 
He  valued  the  true  affection  of  Mrs.  Rose,  mingled 
as  it  was  with  her  more  than  womanly  weakness. 
Now  the  hope  he  had  so  fondly  cherished  of  being 
once  more  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Rose,  and  enjoying 
the  luxuries  which  had  rendered  him  so  eifemi- 
nate,  —  that  hope  was  entirely  swept  away,  and  he 
resigned  himself  to  his  present  condition.  More 
over,  for  the  first  time,  he  felt  a  warm  glow  of 
gratitude  to  Harvey  Amadore. 

Clarence  sought  his  sister,  to  tell  her  about  Mrs. 
Rose.  Lucy  was  busily  employed  in  the  dairy, 
working  up  the  nice,  yellow  butter  into  rolls,  and 
stamping  them  with  the  American  eagle  —  a  design 
Clarence  himself  had  cut  in  wood  for  that  purpose. 

Lucy  saw  at  once  that  Clarence  had  been  weep 
ing.  Indeed,  the  briny  fountain  at  the  corners  of 
his  eyes  seemed  perennial,  and  overflowed  on  the 
least  provocation. 


142  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

In  this  case  he  was  excusable ;  for  he  really 
loved  Mrs.  Rose. 

When  Lucy  had  heard  the  sad  news,  she  was  not 
surprised  at  her  brother's  grief. 

u  What  should  we  have  done  without  Harvey?" 
exclaimed  Clarence.  "  I  intend,  now,  to  work  with 
a  will,  for  I  am  beginning  to  like  gardening." 

"  It  was  man's  work  when  he  was  in  a  state  of 
innocence,  and  it  has  been  the  delight  of  thousands 
and  millions  since  the  fall,"  said  Lucy,  with  en 
thusiasm. 

"  Do  you  know,  Lucy,  I  mean  to  make  a  first- 
rate  gardener?  This  is  my  resolution  on  this  my 
fifteenth  birthday." 

"  It's  a  splendid  resolution.  I'll  follow  it  up  with 
another.  I  mean  to  make  the  best  dairy-woman  in 
the  country.  Do  you  know  our  butter  already  sells 
for  the  highest  price  in  market  ?  " 

"  I  should  think  it  would,  for  it  is  the  sweetest, 
nicest  butter  I  ever  put  into  my  mouth.  I  wish 
poor  mamma  had  some  of  it,  and  a  bouquet,  too, 
of  our  beautiful  flowers.  But  I  must  go  to  work ; 
I  have  already  staid  too  long.  By  the  way,  our 
night-blooming  cereus  will  be  out  'this  evening. 
Will  you  go  with  me  to  the  Hall,  and  see  it?  Sandy 
told  me  to  ask  you." 

"  I  shall  be  delighted  to  go.     Good  morning." 

With  an  elastic  step,  and  a  determined  air,  Clar 
ence  sped  over  the  ground  till  he  reached  the  garden 


JILL    IS    JV071    GOLD   THAT    GLITTERS.  143 

at  the  Lindens.  The  way  in  which  he  attacked  the 
weeds  in  one  of  the  flower-beds,  with  a  small  hoe, 
quite  amused  Sandy. 

"  O,  mon,  I  think  you  handle  your  hoe  this  morn 
ing  so  as  to  put  the  flowers  in  danger  of  their  lives. 
You  must  suppose  you  are  fighting  your  foes,"  said 
Sandy,  leaning  on  his  spade,  and  looking  anxiously 
after  the  fate  of  his  dear  verbenas. 
•  "I  am  fighting  my  enemies,  the  weeds,"  said 
Clarence,  good-naturedly,  "  and  worse  enemies 
still  —  Pride  and  Laziness." 

"  Weel,  you'll  root  them  sins  out,  tough  as  they 
are.     You've  made  a  right  good  beginnin'. 

'  What  tho'  on  hamely  fare  we  dine, 

Wear  liodden  gray,  and  a'  that ; 
Gie  fools  their  silks,  and  knaves  their  wine  -— 

A  mon 's  a  mon  for  a'  that, 
For  a'  that,  and  a'  that, 

Their  tinsel  show,  and  a'  that. 
The  honest  man,  though  e'er  sae  poor, 

Is  king  o'  men  for  a'  that.' 

Do  you  know,  Master  Clarence,  that  the  greatest  and 
wisest  king  that  ever  lived  was  a  great  botanist  ?  " 
"  I  did  not  know  it.     Who  was  he?" 
"  Why,  Solomon,  sure  ;  he  knew  plants  from  the 
cedar  of  Lebanon  to  the  moss  upon  the  wall.     And 
David,  too,  he  knew  all  about  the  nature  of  trees. 
Didn't  he  compare  the  good  mon  to  the  palm  tree, 
and  the  bad  mon   to   the  poison  bay  tree.     Don't 


144  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

you  remember  the  beautiful  varse  in  the  Psalms  that 
ends  thus,  where  David  speaks  of  the  good  mon?  — 

'  He  shall  be  fat  and  full  of  sap, 
And  aye  be  flourishing.'  " 

Sandy  flourished  his  spade  by  way  of  giving  em 
phasis  to  this  last  quotation,  and  then  vigorously 
resumed  his  work. 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

AUNTY  DOTTY'S  CALL. 

AUNTY  DOTTY  was  curious  to  see  the  Paverley 
family  in  their  new  home,  and  yet  she  allowed 
months  to  elapse  before  she  paid  them  a  visit  at  the 
gardener's  cottage.  At  last  she  made  up  her  mind 
to  go  there,  and  arrayed  herself  in  that  beloved 
changeable  silk,  put  on  her  black  satin  coal-scoop 
bonnet,  drew  on  a  pair  of  long  black  mitts,  and 
walked  off  in  as  stately  a  manner  as  she  could  pos 
sibly  assume. 

It  was  just  at  sunset  of  a  summer  evening.  Mrs. 
Paverley  and  Lucy  were  milking  the  cows  in  a  little 
meadow  through  which  a  merry  brook  rejoiced  on 
its  Avinding  way.  Clarence  was  lingering  at  the 
Lindens,  listening  to  Sandy's  "  wise  saws  and  mod 
ern  instances." 


AUMTY    DOTTY'S    CALL.  145 

As  Aunty  Dotty  drew  near  the  cottage  she  saw 
Pete,  who  was  nailing  up  a  honeysuckle  which 
threatened  to  exclude  the  light  entirely  from  the 
front  window  of  the  parlor. 

"  Boy,  where's  your  mother?"  said  Miss  Dotty, 
in  her  blunt  way. 

"  Gone  to  milking,"  was  the  curt  reply,  in  a  tone 
and  manner  very  like  the  questioner's. 

"  I  s'pose  I  must  go  in  and  wait  for  her  then." 

"  I  s'pose  you  must,"  replied  Pete,  pointing  to  the 
open  door. 

Miss  Dotty  entered,  and  took  a  seat  in  the  parlor 
near  the  front  window. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  cousin  Dotty  thought 
aloud.  Peter  overheard  her  muttering  to  herself,  — 

"A  smart  parlor;  too  smart  by  half  for  poor 
folks.  Books,  too,  lots  of  'em.  I  wonder  how 
they  can  get  time  here  to  read.  And  picters,  too,  I 
declare.  Well,  now,  if  that  ain't  too  much  for 
patience  to  bear.  Harvey  is  awful  extravagant. 
He'll  run  out  the  whole  property  before  he's  twenty- 
five.  These  folks  '11  grow  proud,  and  won't  work  as 
well  for  being  made  so  fine." 

Pete,  hearing  every  word  as  he  stood  by  the  win 
dow,  was  growing  more  and  more  wrathy  every 
minute.  At  length  he  could  endure  no  longer  in 
silence,  and  blurted  out,  in  no  gentle  tone,  — 

"  I've  worked  for  my  living  ever  since  I  was 
knee  high  to  a  grasshopper,  and  I  expect  to  earn 
10 


146  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

my  living  always.  I  don't  mean  to  be  obligated  to 
anybody." 

"  You  needn't  be  spunky,  boy.  You  know  our 
Harvey  fixed  up  this  cottage  so  smart  for  you,  and 
that  he  gives  you  cows,  and  calves,  and  all  sorts  of 
things,  for  nothing." 

Mrs.  Paverley  and  Lucy  now  came  to  the  door 
with  their  milk-pails  filled  to  the  brim  with  rich, 
foaming  milk. 

"  You've  got  company  in  there,"  said  Pete,  with 
a  scornful  laugh. 

The  pails  were  placed  in  the  dairy-room,  and 
Mrs.  Paverley,  putting  on  a  clean  apron,  and  telling 
Lucy  to  do  the  same,  soon  made  her  appearance  in 
the  parlor. 

"You're  quite  welcome  here,  Miss  Trig,"  said 
Mrs.  Paverley. 

"  To  be  sure  I  ought  to  be,"  replied  Miss  Dotty, 
pursing  up  her  mouth  and  twitching  her  long,  sharp 
chin.  "  Who's  a  better  right  ?  " 

Mrs.  Paverley  was  too  much  surprised  to  answer 
a  word.  She  seated  herself,  and  waited  for  her 
visitor  to  continue  the  conversation. 

"  Your  boy  is  sassy.  He  spoke  up  to  me  right 
tart  just  now,  there,  by  that  window." 

"  What,  our  Peter  !  I  am  sorry  if  he  offended 
you  in  any  way,"  said  Mrs.  Paverley,  but  not  in  a 
very  humble  tone. 

"  Offended !     I  wouldn't  be  offended  by  such  a 


J2UJVTY    DOTTY' S    CALL.  147 

young  chap,  who,  I  s'pose,  hasn't  been  taught  any 
better  manners." 

Lucy  now  came  in,  her  apron  white  as  snow, 
and  her  hair  neatly  arranged.  She  had  been  de 
layed  a  moment  by  Peter  at  the  front  door,  who 
said  he  had  something  to  whisper  in  her  ear. 
While  he  did  so  he  placed  a  couple  of  damask  rose 
buds  within  her  comb,  at  the  back  of  her  head. 

"  Smart !  Smart !  Everything  so  dreadful 
smart !  Flowers  in  the  hair,  to  be  sure  ! "  mut 
tered  Dotty,  much  to  the  surprise  of  Lucy,  who 
could  not  comprehend  the  meaning  of  this  odd 
soliloquy.  , 

"  Would  you  be  pleased  to  take  a  glass  of  warm 
milk?"  asked  Lucy,  in  her  own  sweet,  kindly 
manner. 

"  No.  I  don't  like  warm  milk  ;  but  I  could  take 
some  cream  and  strawberries,  too  ;  for  I  'spose  you 
have  plenty  here.  We  don't  get  many  up  at  the 
Hall." 

"  I  will  get  the  cream,"  said  Lucy,  "  but  we 
have  no  strawberries.  Would  you  like  some  bis 
cuits  with  it  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  for  I've  had  a  long  walk,  and  didn't  take 
my  tea  beforehand,  because  Harvey  is  coming  home 
to-night,  and  I  wanted  to  take  supper  with  him." 

"  I  am  sorry  we  haven't  a  cup  of  tea  to  give 
you ;  but  we  have  our  tea  and  dinner  together  at 
noon,  and  don't  have  tea  in  the  evening,"  said  Mrs. 
Paverley. 


148  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

Miss  Dotty  muttered,  "  They  live  on  the  fat  of 
the  land.  Harvey  is  spoiling  these  poor  folks 
entirely." 

•Lucy  returned  with  a  tray,  which  she  placed  on 
a  small  table  before  Miss  Dotty.  The  biscuits  were 
light  and  white  as  snow  ;  a  glass  of  smooth,  yellow 
cream  was  beside  them,  and  a  few  little  round  rad 
ishes  Lucy  had  hastily  pulled  from  her  own  garden. 

Mrs.  Paverley  now  excused  herself  by  saying  that 
she  must  strain  the  milk  they  had  just  brought  in. 

While  Miss  Dotty  was  applying  herself  right 
heartily  to  the  entertainment  set  before  her,  Lucy 
took  up  a  book,  seated  herself  by  the  front  window, 
and  began  to  read. 

The  mischievous  Pete,  stooping  underneath  the 
window,  whispered,  "  How  do  you  like  your  com 
pany  ?  " 

Lucy  shook  her  head  reprovingly. 

Nothing  daunted,  Pete  continued,  '  Why  don't 
you  talk  to  that  hen-tnrkey?" 

Lucy  was  obliged  to  change  her  seat. 

"  Girl,  who  made  these  biscuits?  "  inquired  Miss 
Dotty,  after  she  had  eaten  half  a  dozen  of  them. 

"  I  made  them.     I  am  glad  if  you  like  them." 

"  Well,  now,  I  shouldn't  have  thought  that  a  gal, 
who  fixed  up  her  hair  so  mighty  fine  with  posies 
and  curls,  would  know  anything  about  cooking." 

Here  a  laugh  was  heard  —  a  real  guffaw  —  from 
Pete. 


AUNTY    DOTTY'S    CALL.  149 

Lucy  did  not  understand  the  allusion  to  the  rose 
buds  ;  she  civilly  replied,  — 

u  My  mother  has  taught  me  to  do  all  kinds  of 
work." 

"  But  I  dare  say  you  like  reading  better.  Nov 
els  I  s'pose  you  read,  and  varses." 

"  I  seldom  read  a  novel ;  but  I  am  fond  of 
poetry,"  said  Lucy,  innocently. 

"  Not  suitable  reading  for  a  girl  that  has  to  work 
for  a  living  —  puts  notions  in  their  heads,  and 
make  'em  soft  and  silly  —  lovesick,  too." 

Lucy's  cheeks  rivalled  the  roses  in  her  hair,  and 
her  forehead  was  of  the  same  bright  hue,  as  she 
replied,  — 

"  I  hope  the  poetry  I  read  will  not  have  that 
effect.  This  is  a  volume  of  Longfellow's  poems." 

"  Now,  you  don't  mean  to  say  that's  the  name  of  a 
poet !  I  never  heard  tell  of  a  writer  of  that  name. 
I've  heard  of  Dr.  Watts,  and  one  Cowper,  and  Joel 
Barlow's  Hasty  Pudding,  but  never  of  a  Long 
fellow." 

Here  another  loud  laugh  came  in  from  beneath 
the  window. 

"  I  do  say  now,  gal,  that  brother  of  yourn  is  the 
very  sassiest  limb  that  ever  I  met  in  all  my  born 
days.  He  desarves  a  good  cowhiding,  and  I'd  give 
it  to  him  if  I  had  a  chance.  But  it's  time  for  me 
to  be  going." 

So  saying,  Miss  Dotty  rose,  and  making  a  super- 


150  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

cilious  nod  to  Lucy,  stalked  out  of  the  house. 
There  she  was  met  by  Pete,  who  made  her  a  low, 
awkward  bow,  and  asked  if  she  would  have  a  cow 
hide  now  ;  he  would  get  one  in  the  barn  ;  or  whether 
she  would  wait  for  another  chance. 

"  Get  along  with  your  impartinence.  I  shall  re 
port  you  to  Harvey  Amadore,  your  young  master." 

"  I  call  no  man  master,  nor  boy  neither,"  said 
Pete,  proudly. 

Miss  Dotty  assumed  an  air  of  dignity,  —  mock 
dignity  it  was,  which  commanded  no  respect,  —  and 
as  she  held  up  her  gown  daintily,  and  stepped  off 
like  a  blackbird,  Pete  followed  her  a  few  rods, 
mimicking  her  in  the  most  complete  and  laughable 
manner. 

About  half  an  hour  after  cousin  Dotty's  depart 
ure  from  the  cottage,  Harvey  returned  home.  As 
he  was  approaching  the  gate  of  Linden  Hall  he 
saw  Pete,  leading  a  young  heifer  by  a  rope  tied 
around  its  neck.  Harvey  stopped  at  the  gate. 
The  animal  seemed  to  have  a  will  of  its  own  quite 
in  opposition  to  Pete's  will,  and  to  exert  it  to  the 
utmost.  It  pulled  and  tugged  one  way.  He,  afraid 
of  hurting  the  heifer,  partly  coaxed  and  partly 
dragged  the  other  way,  occasionally  letting  the  rope 
loose  with  one  hand,  to  wipe  away  tears  from  his 
eyes.  Pete  was  not  given  to  much  weeping ;  but 
this  was  a  hard  case.  Pete  and  Pet  were  friends, 
and  an  opposition  of  this  kind  was  not  agreeable  to 
either. 


J1VNTY   DOTTY' S    CALL.  151 

"What  is  the  matter,  Peter?  "What  are  you 
going  to  do  with  your  calf?  "  inquired  Harvey. 

"  Going  to  take  it  where  it  belongs." 

"It  belongs  to  you;  but  you  are  leading  it  a 
contrary  way." 

u  It  don't  belong  to  me.  I  don't  choose  to  be 
beholden  to  anybody." 

"•  I  suppose  Clarence  gave  you  the  calf,  and  you 
have  a  right  to  it.  You  have  raised  it." 

"  Well,  I  thought  so  till  a  while  ago.  I  don't 
want  to  be  twitted  with  being  a  sort  of  hanger-on, 
and  having  a  master." 

"  Who  has  been  so  unjust  as  to  intimate  such  a 
thing?" 

"  I  don't  choose  to  tell ;  but  somebody  complains 
that  you  will  ruin  yourself  by  doing  so  much  for 
our  folks." 

"  Now,  Pete,  that  is  perfectly  ridiculous.  Are 
you  not  working  for  wages  ?  " 

"  That  I  don't  mind.  I  like  to  work.  But  I 
don't  like  to  keep  what  don't  belong  to  me.  Come, 
Pet,  you  must  go  where  you  belong." 

The  pretty  heifer,  tired  with  its  exertions,  had 
lain  down  on  the  grass  by  the  road-side. 

"  Let  us  reason  quietly  about  this  matter,  Peter. 
I  offered  a  cow  to  Clarence  if  he  would  overcome 
the  habit  of  lisping,  which  made  him  appear  silly. 
With  a  great  effort  he  did  so,  and  fairly  earned  the 
reward." 


152  TRUE   MANLINESS. 

"  But  you  didn't  promise  him  the  calf." 

"Well,  honest  Pete,  the  calf  belonged  to  the 
cow,  and  I  chose  it  should  go  with  her.  What  is 
the  poor  thing  going  to  do  without  its  mother  ?  " 

"  O,  it's  weaned.  See  here."  And  Pete  gath 
ered  a  handful  of  tender  grass,  and  offered  it  to  the 
animal,  who  did  not  show  a  very  great  desire  for 
the  food. 

"  Peter,  could  you  do  an  extra  hour's  work  on 
the  farm  now,  at  this  bury  time  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,  I  could  as  well  as  not ;  an  hour  in 
the  morning  before  breakfast." 

"  Then  in  a  couple  of  months  the  calf  would  be 
fairly  your  own  ;  you  would  have  earned  it.  How 
do  you  like  the  bargain  ?  Would  that  satisfy  you?  " 

"  First  rate.  Come,  Pet,  we'll  go  home."  So 
saying,  right  about  turned  Pete,  and  the  calf  fol 
lowed,  without  the  rope,  making  the  most  awkward 
demonstrations  of  joy  at  her  freedom. 

Harvey  suspected  who  had  been  mischievously 
intermeddling  with  his  affairs,  and  that  very  evening 
had  a  long  talk  with  Aunty  Dotty,  the  result  of 
which  was,  that  she  must  mind  her  own  business, 
or  she  would  lose  the  pleasant  home  she  now  en 
joyed  through  the  kindness  and  liberality  of  Har 
vey's  father. 


A    FAMILY    CONSULTATION.  153 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

A   FAMILY   CONSULTATION. 

WE  now  pass  over  the  autumn  months,  and  jump 
to  winter. 

The  little  parlor  at  the  Paverley  cottage  presented 
a  cheerful  appearance  one  cold  evening  in  the 
month  of  December. 

It  was  the  first  time  they  had  indulged  themselves 
in  a  fire  in  that  spare  room.  Now  it  sparkled  and 
merrily  blazed  up  the  chimney.  A  pair  of  brass 
andirons  seemed  to  know  the  place  they  had  occu 
pied  years  before,  for  they  shone  as  brightly  as 
possible,  and  reflected  the  pleasant  countenances  of 
Mrs.  Paverley,  Lucy,  and  Pete. 

A  small  table,  on  which  were  several  books  and 
a  work-box,  was  drawn  up  near  the  fire.  Mrs.  Pa 
verley,  with  her  knitting,  sat  on  one  side  of  the  fire 
place,  while  Lucy  and  Pete  were  at  the  table,  Lucy 
sewing  and  Pete  much  engrossed  with  slate  and 
pencil,  "  doing  sums,"  as  he  called  it. 

"  I  wonder  why  Clarence  don't  come  home ;  he 
is  later  than  usual,"  said  Lucy. 

Clarence  had  gone  to  the  neighboring  town  to 
make  some  purchases  for  the  household. 

"  There  he  comes,  now,"  said  Pete,  placing  slate 


154  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

and  pencil  upon  the  table,  and  hastening  out  to  meet 
and  assist  his  brother. 

The  horse  and  wagon  were  quickly  disposed  of, 
and  the  parcels  brought  in. 

Clarence  then  came  into  the  parlor,  drew  a  chair 
near  the  table,  and  took  a  letter  from  his  pocket. 

Pete  resumed  his  slate. 

As  Clarence  read-  the  letter,  the  family  saw  he 
was  greatly  agitated. 

The  receipt  of  a  letter  was  an  unusual  occurrence 
at  the  cottage. 

"Bad  news?"  inquired  Mrs.  Paverley. 

"Very  bad,"  was  the  reply.  "Mr.  Rose  is 
dead." 

"  Indeed  !     And  where  is  Mrs.  Rose?  " 

"  In  New  York.  She  arrived  nearly  a  month 
ago.  This  letter  has  been  lying  two  or  three  weeks 
in  the  post-office.  Mr.  Rose  died  after  a  long, 
severe  illness,  during  which  nearly  all  the  money 
he  took  with  him  was  spent,  not  leaving  enough 
even  to  bury  him  ;  and  poor  mamma  had  to  sell  her 
jewelry,  and  even  a  part  of  her  wardrobe,  to  pay 
her  passage  home,  and  the  few  debts  that  were  due 
in  California." 

Here  Clarence  laid  his  head  upon  the  table,  and 
burst  into  a  violent  fit  of  weeping. 

After  a  sorrowful  silence  of  some  minutes,  Lucy 
gently  asked,  — 

"  And  where  is  poor  Mrs.  Rose  now?  " 


Jl    FAMILY    CQN&ULTATlQJf.  155 

"  At  the Hotel  in  New  York,  with  not  a 

friend  or  relation  there  to  assist  her.  Poor  and 
sick,  what  will  she  do  ?  "  sobbed  out  Clarence,  with 
out  lifcing  his  head  from  the  table. 

"  Come  to  us,"  said  Mrs.  Paverley. 

"  Yes,  we  can  take  care  of  her,"  added  Lucy. 

u  So  we  can,"  echoed  Pete. 

"  How  kind ! "  exclaimed  Clarence,  raising  his 
head  and  looking  at  his  mother  through  tears ; 
"  how  kind  for  you  to  propose  such  a  thing  !  " 

"  Didn't  Mrs.  Rose  take  care  of  you  for  more 
than  ten  years  ?  What  else  could  we  do  but  offer 
her  a  home  now,  humble  one  though  it  must  appear 
to  her  who  has  lived  so  grandly  ?  "  said  the  mother. 

"  I  don't  think  she'll  care  for  style  now,"  said 
Pete  ;  "  and,  besides,  I  am  sure  our  house  is  good 
enough  for  anybody." 

"  But  can  we  make  her  comfortable?"  questioned 
Clarence,  anxiously. 

"  We  can  try,"  replied  Lucy.  "  Mother,  if  you 
are  willing,  we  will  give  up  this  room  for  Mrs. 
Rose's  bedroom. 

"  No,  Lucy,  that  is  too  much  of  a  sacrifice,"  said 
Clarence,  doubtfully. 

"  We  have  no  other  spare  room,  Clarence,  and 
we  ought  to  offer  the  best  we  have  to  the  poor  sick 
lady.  I  am  thankful  that  we  have  it  to  offer,"  re 
plied  Mrs.  Paverley. 

"•  O,  mother,  how  good  you  are !  "  exclaimed 
Clarence. 


156  TRUE   MANLINESS. 

"  I  was  a  stranger,  and  ye  took  me  in,"  said 
Pete,  with  an  attempt  at  solemnity,  that,  under  any 
other  circumstances,  would  have  been  irresistibly 
ludicrous. 

"  But  how  can  we  make  this  room  suitable  for  a 
bedroom  ?  "  said  Clarence. 

"  We  shall  only  have  to  purchase  bedstead,  bed, 
and  bedding,  and  a  bureau  and  wash-stand." 

"  And  how  can  we  do  all  that?"  doubtfully  sug 
gested  Clarence. 

"  We  have  some  money  laid  aside  from  our 
dairy,"  said  Mrs.  Paverley. 

"  And  I  have  some  from  my  wages,"  said  Pete. 
"  I  was  wondering  what  I  should  do  with  it ;  this 
is  a  first-rate  chance." 

"  I  haven't  much,  for  I  spent  so  much  for  my 
winter  clothing,"  added  Clarence;  "but  I  have 
enough  to  pay  my  expenses  to  New  York  and 
back  again.  So,  mother,  if  you  will  consent,  I  will 
start  to-morrow  for  the  city,  and  bring  mamma 
home." 

"  Right,  my  son  ;  and  we  will  be  ready  to  receive 
her." 

At  their  evening  devotions  there  was  a  special 
prayer  for  the  widow  and  the  destitute,  and  fervent 
thanksgiving  for  the  many  mercies  bestowed  upon 
that  humble  household,  for  the  comforts  of  this  life 
and  the  richer  blessing  of  faith  in  Christ,  and  a 
hope  of  futuro  blessedness  in  a  life  that  shall  know 


A    FAMILY    CONSULTATION.  157. 

no  end,  where  there  will  be  no  sin,  sickness,  nor 
sorrow. 

Early  the  next  morning  Clarence  went  to  tell 
Sandy,  the  gardener,  of  his  intended  journey  to  the 
city.  Various  were  the  commissions  for  seeds  and 
plants  which  Clarence  was  to  execute  in  the  city,  at 
Sandy's  request. 

"  Take  good  care  of  your  money,"  said  Sandy, 
as  he  gave  him  ten  dollars  for  the  purchases ; 
"  there  are  lots  of  thieves  about  that  big  town,  and 
a  lad  like  you  must  look  sharp  about  him." 

"  Thank  you.  I  shall  be  on  my  guard.  I  had 
my  pocket  picked  once  upon  a  time,"  said  Clarence, 
laughing,  as  he  remembered  his  journey  to  "  cool." 

"  Have  you  heard  from  the  young  master  late 
ly  ?  "  asked  Sandy. 

"  Not  for  a  month  past,"  was  the  reply.  "  When 
I  heard  from  Mr.  Amadore  last,  he  was  on  his  way 
to  Switzerland." 

Harvey  was  travelling  in  Europe  with  a  tutor, 
and  was  not  expected  home  for  a  year  or  two. 

Clarence  bade  "  good  morning"  to  Sandy,  and, 
with  carpet-bag  in  hand,  walked  two  miles  and  a 
half  to  the  nearest  railroad  station. 


158  TRUE   MANLINESS. 

CHAPTER    XXIV. 

CLARENCE    IN   A   QUANDARY. 

IT  was  evening  when  Clarence  arrived  in  New 
York.  He  went  directly  to  the Hotel,  and  in 
quired  for  Mrs.  Rose.  He  was  told  that  no  such 
person  was  there.  Much  puzzled  to  know  what  to 
do  next,  he  at  length  remembered  that  it  was  a 
month  since  she  arrived  in  New  York.  Then  he 
asked  the  clerk  at  the  office  to  look  at  the  register, 
and  see  if  Mrs.  Rose's  name  were  not  on  the  book 
at  that  date. 

"  I  should  remember  it  if  there  had  been  such  a 
person.  I  haven't  time  to  hunt  over  the  book.  Go 
away,  boy  ;  I  must  attend  to  this  gentleman.  Your 
name,  if  you  please,  sir,"  said  the  clerk,  to  a  gen 
tleman  in  black,  who  stood  by  the  side  of  Clarence. 

"  Rev.  Albertus  Warren,  Raceville,"  was  the  re- 

pty- 

Clarence  started  and  exclaimed,  "  Mr.  Warren  ! 
Is  it  possible  !  Don't  you  know  me  ?  " 

"Can  it  be  Clarence  Rose?  Why,  you  have 
grown  a  foot  taller  and  many  inches  broader  than 
when  we  parted,  and  you  don't  lisp  at  all.  I  am 
glad  to  see  you.  For  whom  were  you  inquiring  ?  " 

"  For  Mrs.  Rose,"  replied  Clarence,  his  eyes  fill 
ing  with  tears. 


CLARENCE    /JV   A     QUANDARY.  159 

"  No.  49,  sir,"  said  the  clerk.  "  Will  you  have 
your  trunk  taken  to  your  room?" 

"  Not  just  this  moment.  I  think  you  refused  to 
look  for  the  name  of  Mrs.  Rose  on  your  register. 
Please  do  so  at  once.  What  was  the  date,  Clar 
ence  ?  " 

"  About  the  last  of  November." 

"  Only  Mrs.  Rose  ?     Not  Mr.  Rose  ?  " 

"  Mrs.  Rose,  alone,"  was  the  sorrowful  reply. 
"  Mr.  Rose  is  dead." 

After  a  few  moments'  search  the  clerk  found  the 
name  on  the  register  —  "Mrs.  Rose,  from  Califor 
nia  ;  staid  three  days." 

"  And  where  did  she  go  then  ?  " 

"  Don't  know,"  was  the  curt  reply. 

"Where  are  you  going  to-night,  Clarence?" 
asked  Mr.  Warren,  kindly. 

"  I  have  formed  no  plan  for  the  night.  I  suppose 
I  can  stay  here." 

"Very  well.  Give  me  a  room  with  two  beds," 
said  Mr.  Warren  to  the  clerk,  "  and  take  my  trunk 
and  this  young  gentleman's  carpet-bag  to  my  room, 
and  put  his  name  on  the  register  —  Clarence  Rose." 

The  supercilious  clerk  gave  an  almost  audible 
sneer  as  he  looked  at  the  plain,  homely  garb,  and 
the  old,  worn  carpet-bag  of  the  "  young  gentleman," 
and  said,  "Well,  then,  No.  14." 

Clarence,  however  plainly  dressed,  was  more  neat 
and  tidy  than  many  a  boy  with  richer  clothing.  He 


160  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

followed  Mr.  Warren  to  the  room  with  "  two  beds," 
most  thankful  to  have  met  with  so  kind  a  friend. 

"  After  supper  we  will  have  a  long  talk,  Clar 
ence,"  said  Mr.  Warren.  "  You  look  fatigued, 
though,  I  should  judge,  in  excellent  health.  Let  me 
see ;  it  must  be  two  years  and  more  since  we 
parted.  Come,  let  us  go  to  supper  now." 

After  supper  the  travellers  returned  to  No.  14, 
and  Clarence  had  a  long  story  to  tell,  to  which 
Mr.  Warren  listened  with  great  interest. 

"  We  are  both  fatigued,  and  can  make  no  further 
inquiry  for  Mrs.  Rose  to-night." 

"  How  did  you  cure  yourself  of  the  defect  in 
your  speech?  You  used  to  lisp  badly,"  said  Mr. 
Warren. 

"  My  good  sister  Lucy  took  great  pains  with  me, 
and  with  a  mighty  effort  I  succeeded  in  keeping  my 
tongue  behind  my'  teeth  when  I  said  the  letter  S  ; 
and,"  added  Clarence,  laughing,  "  Harvey  gave  me 
a  cow  as  a  reward  for  my  successful  effort." 

"  Harvey  is  a  noble  boy  ;  one  of  the  best  I  have 
ever  known.  He  will  become,  I  trust,  an  excellent 
man,  an  honor  to  his  country  and  a  blessing  to  the 
world.  I  am  sorry  that  I  shall  have  to  leave  you 
early  to-morrow  morning,  as  I  am  on  my  way  to 
Washington  on  urgent  business." 

The  next  morning,  very  early,  Mr.  Warren 
awakened  Clarence,  and  told  him  he  was  just  about 
to  leave  ;  add,  said  he,  "  I  advise  you,  Clarence,  to 


CLARENCE    /JV    A     QUANDARY. 


161 


go  home  at  once ;  there  is  no  probability  of  your 
finding  Mrs.  Rose  in  this  great  city,  without  any 
clew  to  her  whereabouts.  It  is  expensive  to  be 
here." 

"  I  have  money  enough  of  my  own  to  pay  my 
expenses,"  replied  Clarence,  proudly. 

"  I  am  glad  to  know  it.  God  bless  you,  my  boy. 
When  you  are  at  home  again,  after  a  while  write  to 
me.  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  hear  from  you,  and  so 
will  Mrs.  Warren.  She  is  much  attached  to  you." 

So  saying,  Mr.  Warren  shook  hands  cordially 
with  Clarence,  and  hurried  away. 

No  more  sleep  for  Clarence  that  morning.  He 
lay  for  a  full  hour  meditating  on  what  plan  he 
should  pursue  to  find  Mrs.  Rose,  but  was  no  more 
decided  at  the  end  of  the  hour  than  at  the  beginning. 
Yet,  with  the  hopefulness  of  boyhood,  he  was  sure 
"  something  would  turn  up "  in  his  favor.  So  he 
dressed  himself  in  his  butternut  brown  suit,  and 
went  down  to  breakfast,  feeling  a  little  shy  among 
the  crowd  in  the  large  dining-room  as  he  walked 
the  length  of  it  to  find  a  place. 

A  waiter,  who  had  not  seen  him  the  evening  pre 
vious,  addressed  him  sharply  as  he  moved  towards 
an  unoccupied  table. 

"Boy,  haven't  you  mistaken  your  place?  This 
is  the  gentlemen's  dining-room." 

"  I  know  that  as  well  as  you  do,"  said  Clarence, 
with  perfect  assurance.  Taking  a  seat  at  the  table, 
11 


162  TRUE    MAJMJJYESS. 

he  said,  very  decidedly  and  promptly,  "  Hand  me  a 
bill  of  fare." 

The  waiter  obeyed  without  further  questioning. 
Then,  wondering  at  the  sudden  change  in  the  man 
ner  of  the  boy,  from  shyness  to  proud  assurance,  he 
attended  to  him  respectfully.  It  seemed  as  if  the 
very  atmosphere  of  the  city  had  brought  back  the 
quondam  Clarence  Rose. 

After  breakfast,  Clarence  thought,  as  there  was 
no  probability  of  finding  Mrs.  Rose,  he  might  as 
well  spend  the  day  in  amusing  himself,  as  by  going 
directly  home. 

As  he  was  passing  a  fashionable  hatter's  in 
Broadway,  he  saw  some  very  attractive  looking 
hats.  He  wore  an  old  blue  cloth  cap.  The  temp 
tation  was  too  great  to  be  resisted  —  at  least  so 
thought  Clarence ;  and  after  trying  on  a  number, 
he  at  length  suited  himself  with  an  expensive  one, 
and,  setting  it  jauntily  on  his  head,  paid  for  it.  As 
he  was  walking  out  of  the  .shop,  the  man  of  whom 
he  had  made  the  purchase  said,  — 

"  Young  mister,  here's  your  cap." 

"  I  don't  want  it.  Give  it  to  the  first  beggar  that 
comes  along,"  replied  Clarence,  with  an  air  of  su 
perlative  contempt  for  the  old  friend,  the  blue  cloth 
friend,  who  had  sheltered  his  pate  for  many  a  month. 

His  next  stopping-place  was  at  Barnum's  Mu 
seum,  where  he  passed  a  couple  of  hours  very  much 
to  his  satisfaction. 


CLARENCE    /JV   A     QUANDARY.  163 

On  his  way  back  to  the Hotel,  he  stepped  into 

a  restaurant  and  called  for  a  variety  of  nice  things. 
When  he  had  fully  satisfied  himself  with  them,  he 
put  his  hand  in  his  pocket  for  his  purse  —  the  same 
red  silk  purse  that  Mrs.  Rose  had  given  him  when 
he  went  to  school.  He  had  had  very  little  use  for 
it  since. 

The  purse  was  not  in  that  pocket,  neither  was 
it  in  any  other  of  his  pockets.  ' 

While  he  was  making  this  search,  he  was  closely 
scrutinized  by  a  lady  and  her  daughter,  a  girl  of 
about  sixteen  years,  who  were  seated  at  a  table 
very  near  him. 

"  Mother,  I  am  sure  that  is  little  Wainbow,  as 
we  used  to  call  him,"  said  the  daughter. 

"  It  can't  be  possible ;  he  looks  more  like  a 
cloud  than  a  rainbow  in  that  rough  overcoat." 

"  Rough  overcoats  are  fashionable,  mother.  I 
am  sure  it  is  Clarence  Rose  :  his  hair  is  darker,  and 
so  is  his  complexion ;  but  the  eyes  and  mouth  are 
the  same.  Do  speak  to  him ;  pray,  do.  He  seems 
in  trouble." 

The  two  ladies  rose  and  approached  Clarence. 
The  elder  said,  — 

"  Are  you  Clarence  Rose?  " 

"  I  am,"  was  the  curt  reply,  as  Clarence  rose 
from  his  seat. 

"I  thought  you  were  in  California  with  your 
father  and  mother.  When  did  you  come  in  town  ?  " 


164  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

"  Last  evening." 

"  Where  are  you  staying?  " 

"  At  the Hotel." 

"  You  seem  to  be  in  trouble." 

"  I  am.  While  at  Barnum's  Museum  I  must 
have  had  my  pocket  picked,  for  I  have  lost  my 
purse." 

"  You  do  not  appear  to  recognize  us,"  said  the 
younger  lady. 

"  I  beg  pardon.  I  was  so  embarrassed  by  the 
loss  of  my  purse  that  I  did  not  at  first  notice  that 
it  was  Mrs.  Snett  and  Miss  Caroline  who  were 
speaking  to  me." 

"  Don't  you  remember  the  party  at  our  house 
just  before  you  left  town  to  go  to  school?"  said 
Miss  Caroline. 

"  Perfectly,"  replied  Clarence,  still  hunting  for 
his  purse. 

"  Allow  me  to  lend  you  what  money  you  need 
here  ;  for  I  suppose  you  feel  quite  like  a  stranger  in 
town  after  so  long  an  absence." 

"  Indeed,  I  do,"  replied  Clarence,  his  eyes  mois 
tening,  and  his  voice  faltering,  in  spite  of  a  violent 
effort  for  self-control. 

"  Will  you  take  a  dollar,  or  more,  if  you  like? " 

"  A  dollar,  if  you  please ;  where  shall  I  return 
it?" 

"  O,  we  are  still  in  Waverley  Place,  in  the  same 
house  as  when  you  last  visited  us,"  said  Mrs. 


CLARENCE   /JV  A    QUANDARY.  165 

Snett,  handing  him  a  two-dollar  note.  "Tell  your 
mother  I  shall  soon  call  to  see  her.  Good  morn 
ing." 

"  Good  morning,  Clarence.  I  hope  we  shall  see 
you  again  very  soon,"  added  the  daughter. 

"  Thank  you,  Miss  Caroline.     Good  morning." 

As  soon  as  the  ladies  left,  Clarence  stepped  to 
the  paying-desk,  with  the  little  round  tickets  left  on 
the  table  for  him,  proving  that  he  had  spent  in 
gratifying  his  palate  one  dollar  and  twenty-five 
cents. 

He  paid  it  as  though  he  had  indeed  just  returned 
from  California,  a  millionnaire. 

And  now  for  the  hotel.    What  could  he  do  there  ? 

He  had  allowed  Mrs.  Snett  to  believe  that  Mrs. 
Rose  was  with  him  at  the  hotel.  He  had  told  no 
direct  falsehood,  yet  he  had  practised  deception  ;  and 
what  would  be  the  consequence  he  could  not  ima 
gine.  In  spite  of  his  fashionable  hat,  he  walked  up 
Broadway  with  a  gloomy,  disconsolate  air.  He 
was  not  as  manly  as  he  thought  he  was  while  work 
ing  in  the  garden  on  Linden  Hill. 

What  he  should  do  at  the  hotel  he  could  not 
conceive  ;  but  go  there  he  must.  He  would  go  to 
his  room  No.  14,  and  consider. 

No  sooner  had  he  entered  the  clerk's  office  than 
he  was  met  by  that  dignitary,  who  accosted  him 
with  a  supercilious  air. 

"  Boy,  you  can't  go  to  No.  14 ;  that  room  is 


166  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

occupied.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Warren  paid  your  bill 
this  morning,  and  said  you  would  leave  to-day." 

"  Very  well ;  so  I  shall,"  replied  Clarence,  great 
ly  relieved  by  the  generous  thoughtfulness  of  Mr. 
Warren. 

"  Porter,  bring  the  boy's  carpet-bag,"  said  the 
clerk. 

Clarence  took  the  bag,  tossed  the  porter  a  quar 
ter  of  a  dollar,  and  walked  off,  carrying  himself  as 
stiff  and  erect  as  a  raw  soldier  on  drill. 

His  enemy,  Pride,  had  not  been  rooted  out. 

Now,  what  was  he  to  do  in  the  city,  with  half  a 
dollar  in  his  pocket  and  a  long  distance  from  home, 
besides  being  in  debt  to  Mrs.  Snett? 

"  She  was  kind  to  me ;  I  will  confess  to  her 
all  the  truth,  and  she  may  assist  me  in  finding 
mamma." 

With  this  thought  in  his  mind,  he  walked  rapidly 
to  Waverley  Place.  It  was  now  about  four  o'clock. 
As  he  passed  from  Broadway  through  that  Place, 
looking  for  the  house  of  Mrs.  Snett,  he  saw  the 
name  of  Hosea  Fenton  on  a  door,  and  instantly 
stopped  before  it.  A  sudden  impulse  seized  him. 
He  sprang  up  the  steps  and  rang  the  bell.  A 
waiter  appeared. 

"  Is  Mr.  Fenton  at  home?" 

"  Yes,  sir ;  please  walk  into  the  vestibule.  Your 
name,  sir?" 

"  Clarence  Rose." 


CLARENCE   7JV  A    QUANDARY.  167 

A  moment  was  given  for  reflection,  and  Clarence 
resolved  to  be  as  frank  and  unreserved  with  Mr. 
Fenton  as  he  had  decided  to  be  with  Mrs.  Snett. 

The  waiter  returned,  and  asked  Clarence  to  lay- 
aside  his  hat  and  overcoat. 

He  did  so,  and  was  shown  into  a  large  dining- 
room,  where  Mr.  Fenton  was  seated  at  table  alone. 
The  first  course  had  just  been  placed  upon  the 
table.  Mr.  Fenton  was  a  small,  gray-haired  old 
man,  dressed  in  a  suit  of  snuff-colored  cloth  —  coat, 
vest,  and  pants. 

"  Take  a  seat,  Rose.     "Will  you  have  soup?  " 

"  Thank  you.     Yes,  sir." 

An  extra  plate  had  already  been  placed  for  him, 
and  a  chair  beside  the  table,  as  though  he  had  been 
an  expected  guest. 

The  soup  was  soon  discussed,  without  a  spoken 
word. 

The  second  course  followed. 

"  Fish?"  said  Mr.  Fenton. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"Soy?" 

"  No,  sir." 

Not  another  word  till  the  fish  was  removed  and 
a  surloin  of  roast  beef  placed  before  Mr.  Fenton. 

"  Rare  or  well  done  ?  " 

"  Well  done,  if  you  please,  sir." 

A  custard  pudding  and  an  apple-pie  followed. 

"Pudding  or  pie?" 


168  TRUE 

u  Pudding,  if  you  please,  sir." 

"  Just  as  you  please." 

"  Pudding,  then." 

Dried  fruits  and  nuts  followed. 

"  Bring  the  fruit  and  nuts  to  my  library,"  said 
Mr.  Fenton  to  the  waiter.  "  Come,  Rose." 

Clarence  followed  Mr.  Fenton  to  the  library. 
The  library  was  filled  on  all  sides  but  one  with 
books,  and  was  lighted  from  above.  At  the  end 
not  occupied  by  bookcases  was  a  large  oil  paint 
ing  representing  Shakespeare's  Shylock  and  An 
tonio,  surrounded  by  pictures  and  engravings  of 
smaller  size.  A  table,  covered  with  green  cloth, 
was  in  the  centre  of  the  room ;  a  bright  fire  glowed 
in  the  grate.  The  waiter  placed  upon  the  table  a 
tray  with  the  fruits  and  nuts,  and  then  left  the  room. 

"Be  seated,  Rose,"  said  Mr.  Fenton,  seating 
himself  by  the  table  in  a  large  arm-chair,  covered 
with  green  morocco,  and  pointing  to  one  opposite 
to  them  of  the  same  kind. 

Clarence  sunk  into  its  luxurious  embrace. 

Mr.  Fenton  regarded  him  curiously  with  his 
keen  dark  eyes  for  full  two  minutes,  and  then  said, 
"  Nuts,  nuts  ;  help  yourself." 

The  keen  inspection  daunted  and  embarrassed 
Clarence,  and  much  as  he  liked  nuts  and  dried 
fruit,  he  had  now  no  inclination  for  them. 

"Keep  me  company,  Rose,"  said  the  old  man, 
taking  a  few  almonds. 


CLARENCE    7JV  A    QUANDARY.  169 

"  Thank  you  ;  "  and  Clarence  did  the  same. 

"  Now,' tell  me  what  brings  you  to  town." 

"  I  have  a  long  story  to  tell,  if  you  will  have  the 
kindness  to  listen  to  it." 

"  Nothing  better  to  do  for  the  next  hour  ;  but  be 
as  brief  as  possible." 

Clarence  then  told  of  the  death  of  Mr.  Rose  ;  the 
return  of  Mrs.  Rose,  and  her  condition,  "poor  and 
sick ; "  his  coming  to  New  York ;  and  what  had 
since  happened  to  the  time  of  his  seeing  the  name 
of  Hosea  Fenton  upon  the  door,  and  his  sudden 
impulse  to  ring  the  bell. 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  induced  that  im 
pulse?" 

"  It  probably  wns  a  remembrance  of  the  excel 
lent  advice  you  gave  me,  sir,  through  Harvey  Ama- 
dore." 

"  Have  you  profited  by  that  advice?  " 

"  Not  much,  I  fear ;  I  flattered  myself  I  had, 
before  I  came  to  the  city ;  but  I  find  I  am  the 
same  being  still,  full  of  faults,  and  very  weak  and 
silly." 

"  What  were  you  intending  to  do  next?" 

"  To  go  directly  home,  if  I  could  borrow  the 
money  for  that  purpose,"  replied  Clarence,  a  bright 
color  spreading  over  his  whole  face. 

"  What?     Without  finding  Mrs.  Rose  !  " 

"  I  don't  know  how  to  find  her." 

"Have  you  tried?" 


170  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

"  Only  by  asking  at  the  hotel." 

"  Set  to  work  again,  and  see  if  you  can't  discover 
some  other  way.  When  you  went  to  school,  I 
suppose  you  wrote  in  your  copy-book,  '  Perseveran- 
tia  vincit  omnict,.'  " 

"  If  I  only  knew  how  and  where  to  begin." 

"Harvey  has  given  me,  from  time  to  time,  a 
good  account  of  you,  and  of  all  your  family ;  and 
though  I  had  never  seen  you,  I  had,  for  his  sake  as 
well  as  your  own,  taken  an  interest  in  you.  Your 
frankness  has  pleased  me.  It  is  getting  too  late  for 
you  to  do  anything  further  this  evening ;  so  you 
must  make  yourself  contented  here,  and  think  the 
matter  over  while  I  am  absent." 

Taking  out  his  watch,  Mr.  Fenton  started  up, 
saying,  "  The  hour  is  up  ;  I  must  be  off;  but  here 
are  some  letters  from  Harvey  for  your  amusement ; 
but  don't  forget  that  you  are  to  think  out  some  plan 
for  finding  poor  Mrs.  Rose.  Make  yourself  at 
home." 

Harvey's  letters  interested  Clarence  exceedingly. 
He  had  first  travelled  through  England  and  Scot 
land,  and  was  now  on  the  continent.  Several 
times  Clarence  was  mentioned.  Once  he  says,  "  I 
should  like  to  hear  of  the  welfare  of  the  Paver- 
ley  family.  I  wrote  to  Clarence  from  Edinburgh, 
but  have  not  received  an  answer.  I  am  anxious 
.about  Clarence."  In  another  letter,  he  writes, 
"  Still  I  hear  nothing  from  Clarence.  I  think 


CLARENCE   IN  A    QUANDARY.  171 

he  has  my  banker's  address."  Again  he  writes, 
"  I  am  anxious  about  Clarence.  I  fear  he  is  not 
doing  well,  and  is  discontented  with  his  present 
employment.  Would  it  be  advisable  to  find  some 
other  that  would  suit  him  better?  I  know,  my 
dear  guardian,  that  you  strongly  and  persistently 
advised  me  not  to  separate  him  from  his  family. 
As  for  Peter,  he  will  do  very  well  where  he  is, 
and,  no  doubt,  make  an  excellent  farmer ;  and  I 
should  not  be  surprised  if  he  became  a  much 
stronger  man  every  way  than  his  brother.  Poor 
Clarence  was  so  petted  and  coddled  in  early  life  as 
to  become  enervated,  and  incapable,  I  fear,  of  doing 
much  for  himself,  or  for  others.  However,  when  I 
left  home,  I  had  confidence  in  him,  and  hoped  that 
he  was  doing  well.  I  am  much  attached  to  him, 
and  should  be  sadly  disappointed  if  he  became  un 
worthy  of  respect  and  affection." 

Clarence  was  half  pleased  and  half  provoked  by 
this  notice  of  himself.  Harvey's  continued  interest, 
when  surrounded  by  scenes  so  new  and  attractive, 
surprised  and  gratified  him ;  but  then  the  doubts 
expressed  annoyed  and  vexed  him. 

"  I  will  disappoint  Harvey,"  he  thought  to  him 
self;  "  I  will  be  all  and  more  than  he  expects." 

With  this  resolution  on  his  mind,  he  set  himself 
to  considering  what  he  should  do  to  find  Mrs.  Rose. 

While  thus  employed  the  waiter  lighted  the  gas 
in  the  library. 


172  TRUE  MJJYLIJYESS. 

Soon  after  Mr.  Fenton  returned  home,  and  found 
Clarence  in  the  library,  with  his  arms  resting  upon 
the  table,  and  his  head  dropped  upon  them. 

Mr.  Fenton  smiled  significantly,  for  he  thought 
the  boy  was  fast  asleep. 

But  no ;  Clarence  surprised  him  by  lifting  his 
head  suddenly,  and  exclaiming,  "  I  have  it ;  —  I 
have  it ! " 

So  deeply  was  he  absorbed  in  thought  that  he 
had  not  noticed  the  entrance  of  Mr.  Fenton. 

"  You  have  it.     Well,  we  will  have  tea." 

So  saying  Mr.  Fenton  rang  the  bell,  and  gave 
orders  to  have  the  tea-equipage  brought  to  the 
library. 

"  You  see  how  I  live  alone,  and  have  my  own  bach 
elor  ways,"  said  he,  seating  himself  by  the  table. 

Mr.  Hosea  Fenton  was  a  banker,  —  a  man  good 
on  'Change  for  a  million,  —  a  man  whose  honesty 
and  sterling  integrity  were  proverbial. 

Tea  and  toast  were  brought  in. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  yourself  this 
evening?"  demanded  Mr.  Fenton. 

"  Inquire  about  Mrs.  Rose ;  I  have  thought  of 
a  plan  to  find  where  she  is." 

u  Put  that  off  till  morning  ;  after  tea  go  in  to  see 
my  neighbor,  Mrs.  Snett." 

Clarence  started,  blushed,  and  stammered  out  at 
last,  "  But  I  owe  her  two  dollars  ;  and  worse  than 
that,  I  deceived  her  about  mamma." 


CLARENCE    JJV  A    QUANDARY.  173 

"  But  what  if,  in  consequence  of  that  deception, 
she  should  call  at  the  hotel  to-morrow,  and  find 
there  that  you  had  deceived  her?  Better  go  and 
tell  her  the  whole  truth,  as  you  told  it  to  me." 

"  But  she  may  have  company,  and  I  am  not  fit  to 
appear  among  genteel  people." 

"  Genteel !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Fenton,  with  a  con 
temptuous  pursing  up  of  the  mouth.  "  Pshaw ! 
don't  talk  to  me  about  genteel  people.  I  despise 
that  word.  Why  are  you  not  fit  to  see  an  old 
acquaintance  ?  " 

."  My  dress  I  mean,  sir." 

"  Your  dress  !  Why,  it  is  as  good  as  mine,  and 
nearly  the  same  color ;  perhaps  not  quite  as  fine  a 
cloth.  Old  Thomas  Fuller,  a  quaint  old  writer, 
says,  'Why  should  any  brag  of  what's  but  bor 
rowed?  Should  the  ostrich  snatch  off  the  gal 
lant's  feather,  the  beaver  his  hat,  the  goat  his 
gloves,  the  sheep  his  coat,  the  silkworm  his  stock 
ings,  the  calf  his  shoes,  he  would  be  left  in  a  cold 
condition.'  How  much  money  had  you  in  your 
purse  when  your  pocket  was  picked?" 

"Twenty  dollars  of  my  own,  and  ten  that  Sandy, 
the  head  gardener,  gave  me,  with  which  I  was  to 
buy  seeds,  and  some  other  things." 

Twenty  dollars  Clarence  had  earned  literally  "in 
the  sweat  of  his  brow." 

Mr.  Fenton  took  from  a  large  pocket-book  notes 
to  the  amount  of  thirty  dollars,  and  handed  them  to 


174  TRUE  MANLINESS. 

Clarence,  saying,  gravely,  "  I  do  not  give  you  this 
money  ;  it  belongs  to  Harvey  Amadore  ;  I  lend  it  to 
you,  and  expect  you  to  .pay  him  the  full  amount." 

"  Gladly  will  I  do  that,"  said  Clarence,  eagerly, 
seizing  the  money,  and  thrusting  it  into  his  vest 
pocket. 

"  So  that  is  the  way  you  are  going  to  carry  your 
money,  youngster  ;  after  having  been  robbed,  too?" 

"  I  have  no  purse,  sir." 

"  True  ;  take  my  wallet ;  it  has  been  a  lucky 
one ; "  and  Mr.  Fenton  handed  Clarence  an  old 
.leather  wallet  that  had  served  its  wealthy  owner 
for  at  least  twenty  years.  "  Now,  take  special  care 
of  it,  and  remember,  when  you  use  it,  that  for 
every  dollar  you  put  into  it  you  are  accountable  for 
a  right  use,  not  to  me,  but  to  the  Giver  of  every 
good  gift.  Now  you  can  go  in  to  see  Mrs.  Snett ; 
she  lives  at  the  next  house  but  one  from  mine." 

"  But  allow  me  to  tell  you  of  a  way  I  have 
thought  of  to  find  out  about  Mrs.  Rose." 

"  Certainly." 

"  I  will  inquire  of  the  porter  at  the Hotel 

if  he  carried  trunks  for  a  lady,  at  such  a  date,  the 
day  when  she  left  the  hotel,  and  where  he  carried 

them ;  or  I  can  inquire  of  the  drivers  of  the  

Hotel  carriages.  It  is  possible  that  some  one  may 
remember  having  left  Mrs.  Rose  at  the  place  where 
she  now  is." 

"  Very   well,    Clarence ;    I   am   glad  you   have 


A    CONFESSION.  175 

thought  out  an  expedient,  and  hope  it  may  prove 
successful.  When  you  return  from  Mrs.  Snett's, 
the  waiter  will  show  you  directly  to  your  room. 
Good  night." 

"  Good  night,  and  many  thanks  for  your  kind 
ness.  Can  I  go  to  the  room  you  are  so  kind  as  to 
offer  me  for  the  night  ?  I  wish  to  put  myself  a  little 
in  order  before  going  to  see  Mrs.  Snett." 

"Well,  I  suppose  soap  and  water,  brush  and 
comb,  will  do  you  no  harm,"  said  Mr.  Fenton, 
facetiously,  as  he  rang  a  bell  for  the  waiter. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

A   CONFESSION. 

It  cost  Clarence  a  mighty  effort  to  summon  reso 
lution  to  tell  Mrs.  Snett  the  story  of  Mrs.  Hose's 
misfortunes  and  the  change  in  his  own  circum 
stances  ;  and  still  more,  to  confess  the  deception  he 
had  practised  upon  her  at  the  restaurant.  As  he 
stood  upon  the  door-step,  he  twice  laid  his  hand 
upon  the  bell-knob,  and  withdrew  it.  He  was 
sorely  tempted  to  go  directly  out  of  town.  But 
better  thoughts  prevailed,  and,  with  a  /sudden  im 
pulse,  he  gave  the  bell  a  tremendous  pull,  startling 
the  whole  household,  as  a  policeman  might  have 
done  had  the  house  been  on  fire. 


176  TRUE    MJWLIJVESS. 

The  waitress,  who  came  to  the  door,  cautiously 
opened  it  just  far  enough  to  see,  by  the  light  of  the 
street-lamp,  an  inoffensive-looking,  tall  boy,  who 
asked  for  Mrs.  Snett,  and  wished  to  see  her  alone. 

"  What  name  shall  I  give?  " 

"  I  haven't  a  card  with  me.  Tell  Mrs.  Snett  it 
is  Clarence  Rose." 

"  Yes  ;  "  and  the  door  was  closed  in  his  face. 

Soon  the  waitress  returned,  and  showed  Clarence 
up  stairs  into  Mrs.  Snett's  dressing-room,  saying 
there  was  company  in  the  parlors,  and  Mrs.  Snett 
would  see  him  there. 

Somewhat  alarmed  at  the  summons,  Mrs.  Snett 
made  her  appearance.  She  was  in  full  dress,  look 
ing,  Clarence  thought,  exactly  as  she  did  at  the 
party  in  that  same  house  where  he  had  made  him 
self  so  conspicuous  by  his  dress  and  manners. 

"  Good  evening,  Clarence ;  I  hope  you  do  not 
bring  any  bad  news  from  your  mamma." 

"  I  wish  I  could  bring  any  news  whatever  from 
her,  for  I  don't  know  where  to  find  her." 

"Goodness!  Is  she  lost?"  exclaimed  the  good 
lady.  "  I  thought  something  dreadful  was  coming, 
from  your  frightened  expression.  Why,  you  are  as 
pale  as  death.  Tell  me  at  once,  what  is  it  that  so 
alarms  you  ?  " 

"  Have  you  time  to  hear  a  long  story,  and  a  sad 
one?" 

"  I  can  be  spared  from  the  young  folks  below  for 


A    COJVFJESS/OJV.  177 

a  short  time.  Do  make  haste,  however,  for  my 
curiosity  is  at  the  highest  pitch." 

Clarence  now,  as  briefly  as  possible,  told  of  his 
being  obliged  to  leave  school  and  go  to  his  own 
mother,  when  Mrs.  Snett  interrupted  him  :  — 

"  What,  is  it  possible  !  Wasn't  Mrs.  Rose  your 
own  mother  ?  " 

"  No ;  "my  own  mother  is  a  poor  woman,  and 
Mrs.  Rose  adopted  me  when  I  was  very  young." 

Clarence  then  went  on,  and  told  how  he  went 
home,  with  the  expectation  of  going  back  to  live 
with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Rose,  when  they  returned  from 
California.  Then  he  told  of  the  long  sickness 
and  death  of  Mr.  Rose,  and  the  destitute  condition 
of  Mrs.  Rose ;  her  return  to  New  York,  and  his 
want  of  success  in  search  of  her ;  the  robbery  at 
the  Museum ;  and  the  deception  he  had,  without 
any  previous  intention,  practised  upon  Mrs.  Snett 
at  the  restaurant.  Then  he  mentioned  that  he  had 
been  very  kindly  received  by  Mr.  Hosea  Fenton, 
who  had  loaned  him  money,  —  which,  of  course,  he 
should  repay  as  soon  as  he  had  earned  it. 

Here  Clarence  handed  a  two-dollar  note  to  Mrs. 
Snett. 

"  No,  no  ;  keep  it,  I  entreat  you.  Is  it  possible 
that  you  are  the  same  Clarence  Rose  that  the  chil 
dren  called  little  Wainbow?  You,  who  lisped  in 
such  a  silly  way,  —  excuse  me,  —  and  cared  for 
12 


178  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

nothing  but  a  fine  dress.  You  are  wonderfully 
changed  for  the  better." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Clarence,  with  a  smile. 
"  Thank  you  ;  but  please  take  the  money.  Indeed, 
you  would  oblige  me  by  taking  it." 

"  If  you  insist,  I  must ; "  and  Mrs.  Snett  re 
luctantly  took  it,  saying,  "  Your  mamma  was  a 
friend  of  mine,  a  true  friend,  when  I  was  myself 
in  trouble,  and  I  have  not  forgotten  it.  What  can 
I  do  to  aid  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  there  is  no  way  in  which  you  can 
help  me  to  find  out  where  she  is." 

"  Yes,  there  is  !  there  is  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Snett, 
with  extreme  animation.  "  Do  you  remember  old 
Biddy,  your  mamma's  cook  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure  I  do  —  a  faithful  creature." 

"  Well,  she  has  been  here  several  times,  since 
Mrs.  Rose  went  to  California,  to  know  if  I  had 
heard  from  her  former  mistress.  She  said  she  was 
no  longer  able  to  go  out  to  service,  but  maintained 
herself  by  clear-starching  and  goffering  —  doing  up 
laces  and  fine  muslins  for  ladies.  I  engaged  her  to 
do  the  same  for  me.  I  took  her  address,  and  have 
several  times  sent  my  breakfast-caps  to  her.  Only 
last  week  she  came,  saying  she  had  a  sick  friend 
with  her.  Biddy  seemed  in  trouble.  And  besides 
giving  her  work  to  do  for  me,  I  asked  if  she  would 
take  some  jelly  to  her  sick  friend.  The  poor  crea 
ture  was  delighted ;  tears  were  actually  in  her  poor 


j3    CONFESSION.  179 

old  eyes.  Now,  I  suspect  Mrs.  Rose  is  the  sick 
friend.  I  will  give  you  Biddy's  address,  or  I  will 
go  with  you  myself  to-morrow." 

"I  should  be  much  obliged  to  you  for  the  ad 
dress  ;  and  if  you  will  excuse  me,  I  would  rather 
go  first  by  myself." 

Here  the  waitress  came  with  a  request  from  Miss 
Caroline  that  Mrs.  Snett  would  not  keep  Mr.  Rose 
any  longer  to  herself,  but  "  would  she  please  come 
down  to  the  parlor  with  Mr.  Rose  ?  " 

Clarence  started  up,  and  begged  to  be  excused. 
Mrs.  Snett  entreated  him  in  vain  to  join  the  young 
people ;  but  he  persisted  in  his  refusal.  She  then 
gave  him  the  address,  and  begged  him  to  let  her 
know  the  result  of  his  inquiries  as  soon  as  possible. 

Clarence  left  the  house  with  a  heart  much  lighter 
than  it  was  when  he'  pulled  the  door-bell  so  violently, 
though  it  did  throb  somewhat  as  he  perceived  two 
or  three  young  girls  slyly  watching  his  retreat  as 
he  passed  through  the  hall,  and  imagined  they 
might  be  some  of  his  former  companions. 

For  the  first  time  since  Clarence  left  his  home  he 
remembered  his  mother's  injunction,  "  not  to  forget 
his  prayers;"  and  in  the  quietness  of  the  large 
room  appropriated  to  his  use,  he  knelt  by  the  bed 
side,  penitent  for  sins  and  errors,  thankful  for  the 
protection  and  guidance  of  his  heavenly  Father, 
and  begging  to  be  aided  in  the  search  for  the  friend 
whom  he  truly  loved. 


180  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

CHAPTER    XXVI. 

BIDDY  MEGAN. 

"  TENTH  Avenue,  number  — ,  fifth  floor.  Mrs. 
Megan." 

This  was  the  address  given  to  Clarence  by  Mrs. 
Snett. 

Early  the  next  morning  he  stood  before  a  huge, 
ugly  tenement-house,  where  rags  and  old  hats  were 
abundant,  judging  by  the  sham  panes  protruding 
from  the  windows.  And  he  must  mount  to  the 
fifth  floor  of  that  house,  crammed  as  it  was,  from 
attic  to  basem-ent,  with  miserable  specimens  of  hu 
manity.  The  staircase  was  absolutely  filthy ;  and 
poor  Clarence,  with  whom  "  neatness  was  next  to 
the  cardinal  virtues,"  picked  his  way  daintily  up 
the  four  flights  of  stairs,  shoving  aside  here  and 
there  a  white,  or  rather  blue-headed  child,  who 
eagerly  shrieked,  "  Give  me  a  penny ;  give  me  a 
penny." 

At  last  he  found  the  door  on  the  right,  at  the  back 
of  the  house,  and  knocked  there. 

Mrs.  Megan,  the  veritable  Biddy,  lifted  the  latch 
with  her  elbow,  and  appeared  with  her  hands  wear 
ing  white  gloves  —  of  starch.  Those  hands  were 
now  lifted  with  amazement  at  the  sight  of  Clarence, 


BIDDY   MEOAJf.  181 

and  then,  with  what  might  be  termed  an  Irish  howl, 
were  laid  upon  his  shoulders. 

"Who  is  it?  Who  is  it  ?"  came  from  a  feeble 
voice  in  one  corner  of  the  small  room. 

"  Your  own  swate  darlint,"  was  the  reply,  with  a 
brogue  too  rich  for  any  tongue  but  a  Hibernian  to 
describe  or  to  imitate. 

Clarence  stepped  forward,  and  there,  indeed,  was 
Mrs.  Rose,  pale  and  sick ;  the  hair,  that  had  been 
black  as  the  raven's  wing,  now  almost  white,  and 
her  features  as  pinched  and  thin  as  if  she  had  been 
starved  in  a  southern  prison. 

"  Mamma  !  "  It  was  the  only  word  Clarence 
could  utter,  and  then  he  was  forced  to  give  way  to 
a  complete  deluge  of  tears. 

"  My  Clarence  !     So,  you  have  not  forsaken  me  ! " 

u  No,  indeed  !  "  replied  Clarence,  partially  recov 
ering  himself,  and  pressing  one  of  those  thin  white 
hands  to  his  lips  as  he  stood  by  the  bedside  ;  "  no, 
indeed  !  how  could  I  forsake  you  !  " 

Meanwhile,  Biddy  was  disposing  of  her  gloves  in 
a  basin  of  water,  and  then  with  a  towel  wiping  the 
prints  from  the  shoulders  of  Clarence  —  a  circum 
stance  which  quite  changed  the  pathos  of  the  scene 
into  the  ludicrous  —  which,  however,  did  not  at  the 
time  strike  the  principal  actors  in  the  scene. 

"  I  have  come  to  take  you  homo  with  me, 
mamma." 

"  Home  !     I  have  no  home." 


182  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

"  But  I  have,"  said  Clarence,  with  emphasis, 
looking  round  the  miserable  apartment,  and  con 
trasting  it  with  the  neat  little  parlor  prepared  for 
the  reception  of  Mrs.  Rose. 

"  Sit  ye  down,"  said  Biddy,  handing  her  only 
chair,  and  then  discreetly  leaving  the  room. 

"  I  only  received  your  letter  three  days  since,  and 
started  immediately  for  New  York.  I  could  learn 

nothing  of  you  at  the Hotel ;  but  I  met  Mrs. 

Snett,  and  she  told  me  where  I  might  possibly  find 
you." 

"  Mrs.  Snett !  She  was  once  a  good  friend  of 
mine ;  but  I  suppose,  like  all  the  rest,  she  would 
not  acknowledge  my  acquaintance  now." 

"  You  are  mistaken,  mamma  ;  she  wants  to  come 
and  see  you,  and  speaks  of  you  gratefully  and  affec 
tionately.  Why  did  you  not  go  to  her,  or  let  her 
know  you  were  in  town  ?  " 

"  Because  I  sent  to  two  ladies  with  whom  I  was 
formerly  acquainted,  and  they  took  not  the  least 
notice  of  me.  I  thought  they  were  all  alike. 
Then  I  sent  for  Biddy  ;  she,  dear,  good  soul,  took  me 
*in,  and  has  nursed  me  and  cared  for  me  as  she  would 
have  done  for  an  infant.  I  charged  her  not  to  name 
me  to  any  person  whatever,  as  I  should  not  live  long  ; 
and 'when  money  was  needed  to  bury  me,  she  could 
dispose  of  the  remainder  of  my  wardrobe,  and  that 
would  be  sufficient  to  pay  all  expenses." 

"  O,  mamma,  don't  talk  so  dolefully  ;  the  country 


BIDDY   MEGAN.  183 

air  will  do  you  good,  and  my  mother  and  sister  will 
be  so  kind  to  you!  They  are  grateful  to  you, — 
don't  look  doubtful,  —  they  are,  indeed,  and  will  do 
everything  in  their  power  for  your  comfort." 

"  Can  it  be  ?  I  have  thought  of  nothing  lately  but 
being  prepared  for  death  ;  and  there  was  nothing  in 
my  former  life  to  give  me  the  least  consolation  in  view 
of  that  solemn  hour  —  I  could  only  throw  myself 
upon  the  mercy  of  God.  O,  I  am  afraid  of  death." 

u  But  I  cannot  spare  you  yet,  mamma.  Cheer 
up,  and  prepare  to  go  home  with  me." 

"  That  does  not  seem  possible.  And  yet,  I 
ought  not  to  be  a  burden  to  poor  Biddy.  Look  at 
that  stove.  All  day  long,  when  she  is  not  caring 
for  me,  she  is  washing,  starching,  and  ironing." 

"  And  almost  suffocating  you  with  the  heat  and 
smoke." 

"  They  do  affect  my  breathing,  it  is  true,  and 
take  away  my  appetite." 

"  To-morrow,  then,  we  will  leave." 

"  How  can  I  leave  my  good  Biddy?  " 

Clarence  thought  a  moment,  and  then  said,  — 

"  We  can  take  her  with  us.  Here  she  comes.  I 
will  tell  her  all  about  the  plan,  in  the  entry.  Come, 
Biddy,  I  want  to  have  a  consultation  with  you." 

"  Was  there  iver  the  bate  of  this  !  Why,  my 
lady,  the  boy  is  a  man,"  exclaimed  Biddy ;  "  he 
don't  talk  any  more  like  a  babby." 

A  long  consultation  was  holden  in  the  entry,  and 


184  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

Biddy  finally  consented  to  go  to  Hodgton,  and  have 
everything  ready  in  two  days,  or  three,  for  their 
departure.  When  Clarence  returned  to  the  room, 
Mrs.  Rose  said,  — 

"  Indeed,  Clarence,  Biddy  is  right ;  you  have 
gotten  the  entire  use  of  your  tongue.  You  no 
longer  twist  and  wriggle  it  as  you  used  to.  I 
already  feel  better,  much  better,  for  seeing  you, 
and  knowing  that  you  have  not  forgotten  and  for 
saken  me.  Good  by,  for  a  while,  dearest ;  but 
come  in  again  to-morrow." 

"  Certainly.  And  may  I  bring  Mrs.  Snett  with 
me?" 

"  No,  Clarence.  I  may  be  pardoned  for  a  little 
lingering  pride.  I  would  not  willingly  see  Mrs. 
Snett  in  this  miserable  place." 

"  No,  indade.  I  never  let  on  to  anybody  that 
my  mistress  was  in  such  a  place  as  this,"  said  poor 
old  Biddy. 

"  A  place  but  too  good  for  me,  Biddy,  dear," 
said  Mrs.  Rose,  with  the  first  tears  that  she  had 
shed  during  this  interview. 

Clarence  hastened  back  to  Mr.  Fenton,  to  tell  him 
of  the  result  of  his  search.  That  gentleman  had 
gone  to  his  banking-house,  and  would  not  be  home 
till  dinner-time. 

Clarence  then  went  to  Mrs.  Snett,  to  tell  her  of 
his  success,  and  to  thank  her  for  putting  him  in  the 
way  of  it.  He  softened  as  much  as  possible  Mrs. 


THE    BANKER'S    HOME.  185 

Rose's  refusal  to  see  Mrs.  Snett,  by  telling  her  it 
really  was  not  a  fit  place  for  any  lady,  and  hardly 
safe,  as  the  air  was  excessively  disagreeable. 

"  But  I  must  see  her.  I  shall  go  and  bring  her 
here,  till  she  is  ready  to  go  home  with  you.  I  will 
not  take  a  refusal." 

Clarence  could  no  further  oppose  this  good  lady, 
but  only  requested  that  she  would  wait  till  the  next 
day.  Then  he  went  back  to  Mr.  Fenton's,  and,  in 
the  library,  wrote  a  long  letter  to  his  mother  and 
sister. 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

THE  BANKER'S  HOME. 

CLARENCE  had  just  finished  his  letter  when  he 
was  summoned  to  dinner. 

The  conversation  at  table  was  as  brief  between 
Mr.  Fenton  and  his  visitor  as  it  had  been  the  pre 
vious  day.  But  when  the  nuts  and  fruit  were  in 
the  library,  and  they  were  seated  at  the  green  table, 
Mr.  Fenton  said,  "  Now,  boy,  give  me  an  account 
of  your  morning's  doings." 

Clarence  did  so,  giving  the  particulars  very  clear 
ly  and  candidly. 

"  I  know  now  why  Harvey  Amadore  has  formed 
so  strong  an  attachment  to  you,  in  spite  of  your 


186  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

many  faults  of  character,"  remarked  Mr.  Fenton, 
giving  Clarence  one  of  those  peculiarly  penetrative 
glances,  which  were  rather  embarrassing. 

Clarence  cracked  a  nut,  and  made  no  reply. 

"  You  are  grateful ;  now,  true  gratitude  is  an 
attribute  of  noble  minds.  Mrs.  Rose  petted  and 
almost  spoiled  you  ;  and,  instead  of  resenting  it,  you 
wish  to  do  everything  in  your  power  for  her." 

u  O,  sir  —  do  not  blame  her;  she  was  exceed 
ingly  kind  to  me ;  and  if  it  were  mistaken  indul 
gence,  still  it  was  meant  for  kindness." 

"  That's  right,  boy ;  stand  up  for  her.  I  like 
that  spirit,  especially  when  a  friend  is  poor  and  in 
trouble.  But  how  do  you  expect  to  maintain  this 
woman,  after  you  have  taken  her  home  ?  " 

"  We  have  more  than  enough  for  ourselves,  all 
united  as  we  are  as  a  family  ;  and  we  shall  be  right 
glad  to  make  Mrs.  Rose  comfortable  in  our  cottage. 
O,  sir,  if  you  had  seen  her  in  that  horrid  dirty 
house,  you  would  not  wonder  at  my  being  in  a  hur 
ry  to  get  her  out  of  it." 

"  You  said  the  twenty  dollars  you  lost  had  been 
laid  aside  from  your  earnings  ;  what  did  you  expect 
to  do  with  it?" 

Clarence  hesitated  a  moment,  his  face  red  as  a 
peony,  and  then  he  replied,  frankly,  "  I  intended  to 
buy  myself  some  nicer  clothing  ;  but  I  can  do  very 
well  without  it." 

"  So  you  can  ;  but  now,  answer  another  question 


THE   BANKER'S  HOME.  187 

as  candidly  as  you  did  the  last.  What  business  or 
profession  are  you  looking  forward  to  in  the  fu 
ture?" 

"Sir,  I  am  a  gardener,  and  I  expect  to  be  a 
gardener.  I  like  the  employment." 

"  Right !  Capitally  right !  If  God,  in  his  wise 
providence,  calls  you  from  a  garden  to  a  seat  in  the 
Senate  of  the  United  States,  you  will  be  prepared 
for  it,  as  the  shepherd  David  was  to  be  king  over 
Israel ;  but  never  look  forward  to  it  as  an  end. 

'  Act,  act  in  the  living  present ; 
Heart  within,  and  God  o'erhead.' 

"  This  reminds  me,"  continued  Mr.  Fenton,  "  of 
an  anecdote  told  by  my  favorite  old  writer,  Thomas 
Fuller.  It  seems  a  farmer,  who  was  a  relation  of 
the  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  asked  the  bishop  to  bestow 
an  office  upon  him.  '  Cousin,'  quoth  the  bishop, 
'  if  your  cart  be  broken,  I'll  mend  it ;  if  your 
plough  is  old,  I'll  give  you  a  new  one,  and  seed  to 
sow  your  land  ;  but  a  husbandman  I  found  you, 
and  a  husbandman  I  leave  you.'  " 

"  My  brother  is  a  farmer,"  said  Clarence  ;  "  but 
my  employment  is  among  flowers  and  shrubs,  and 
where  I  enjoy  the  beautiful.  O,  sir,  I  wish  you 
could  see  our  green-house !  Our  camellias  are 
splendid,  and  our  azaleas  magnificent.  Next  spring 
do  come  and  see  our  rhododendrons." 

Mr.  Fenton  smiled,  and  nodded  his  head  ap 
provingly  at  this  burst  of  enthusiasm. 


188 


TRUE 


"  Sandy,  the  head  gardener,  is  the  wisest, 
shrewdest  old  Scotchman  !  You  ought  to  hear  him 
quote  from  his  favorite  Burns.  Why,  he  knows 
all  Burns's  poems  by  heart.  I  think  Sandy  is  one 
of  the  happiest  men  in  the  world." 

Mr.  Fenton  sighed  deeply. 

"  I  hope,  sir,  I  have  not  displeased  you,"  said 
Clarence,  anxiously. 

"  No,  no,  boy ;  I  was  only  thinking  how  much 
more  real,  rational  enjoyment  there  must  be  in  cul 
tivating  beautiful  flowers  and  fruits,  in  the  pure 
country  air,  than  in  the  harassing  accumulation  of 
wealth,  shut  up  within  the  brick  walls  of  a  banker's 
office.  Well  has  the  poet  Cowper  said,  '  God  made 
the  country,  but  man  made  the  town.'  I  was  my 
self  a  farmer's  boy,  in  beautiful  Orange  County ; 
there  I  passed  the  happiest  years  of  my  life.  There, 
too,  I  fitted  for  college  ;  but  thirst  for  gold  brought 
me  to  the  city,  and  here  I  have  moiled  and  toiled 
till  I  can  count  my  hundreds  of  thousands  of  solid 
coin ;  but  alas !  how  much  solid  pleasure  I  have 
lost ! " 


SIGHT-SEEING.  188 

CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

SIGHT-SEEING. 

THE  following  morning  the  weather  was  rainy, 
and  Mr.  Fenton  at  the  breakfast-table  said  to  Clar 
ence  that  there  was  going  to  be  a  long  storm. 

"  Then  I  am  afraid  mamma  will  not  be  able  to 
take  a  journey  for  some  time  yet,"  replied  Clarence, 
with  a  troubled  expression. 

"  Make  yourself  easy  ;  your  azaleas  and  camellias 
will  not  miss  you,  and  I  should  ;  for  I  am  becoming 
quite  fond  of  your  company." 

"  Thank  you,  sir ;  I  was  afraid  you  would  be 
quite  tired  of  me  by  this  time.  I  shall  go  to  see 
mamma,  and  I  am  sure  Mrs.  Snett  will  not  venture 
out  in  the  storm." 

"And  now  you  have  an  opportunity,  you  had 
better  see  some  of  the  city  sights  besides  Bar- 
num's,"  said  Mr.  Fenton,  with  a  merry  twinkling  of 
his  dark  eyes  and  a  quirk  of  the  mouth.  "  Here," 
he  continued,  "  is  a  ticket  to  a  fine  horticultural 
exhibition  ;  and  here  is  another  that  will  admit  you 
to  the  rooms  of  the  Historical  Society.  I  hope  you 
will  have  a  profitable  day ;  and  mind,  leave  your 
money  at  home,  so  that  pickpockets  can  have  no 
chance,  nor  the  shopkeepers  either." 


190  TRUE 

Clarence  could  not  help  smiling,  though  he  felt 
ashamed  of  himself,  and  replied,  "  You  are  too 
good  to  me,  sir ;  I  have  not  deserved  so  much 
kindness." 

"  We  all  get  more  than  we  deserve  from  our 
heavenly  Father ;  and  if  he  gives  us  an  oppor 
tunity  to  show  kindness  to  others,  we  ought  to  be 
thankful  for  it.  Good  morning." 

Clarence,  thinking  so  early  a  visit  might  not  be 
welcome  to  Mrs.  Rose,  went  first  to  the  horticul 
tural  exhibition,  and  passed  there  a  charming  hour, 
delighted  with  the  splendid  display  of  flowers  and 
hot-house  fruits. 

When  he  reached  Ninth  Avenue,  and  came  near 
to  the  tenement-house  where  he  had  found  Mrs. 
Rose,  he  saw  a  carriage  standing  before  the  door. 
Mrs.  Snett  had  come,  in  spite  of  the  rain,  to  see 
her  quondam  friend,  Mrs.  Rose. 

As  Clarence  drew  near,  Biddy  rushed  from  the 
house  with  an  old  umbrella  over  her  head,  and  stood 
by  the  carriage  door,  the  glass  of  which  was  down. 

"  No,  indade,  my  good  lady  ;  my  mistress  will  not 
let  you  come  up  them  nasty  stairs.  She  thanks  you 
for  coming,  a  thousand,  thousand  times.  She  is 
better  to-day  for  seeing  the  swate  young  master 
yesterday  ;  and  sure,  here  he  is  !  " 

"  I  am  sorry,  very  sorry  Mrs.  Rose  cannot  see 
me,  Clarence  ;  give  my  kindest  regards  to  her,  and 
beg  her  to  come  to  me,  and  stay  with  me  till  she  is 
well  enough  to  take  the  journey." 


SIGHT- SEEING.  191 

"  I  will  do  so  ;  but  I  fear  she  will  not  consent," 
said  Clarence. 

"  You  make  a  mistake,  Master  Clarence  ;  if  mis 
tress  is  as  well  to-morrow  as  she  is  to-day,  and  the 
good  lady  will  send  her  coach,  I  will  carry  mistress 
down  stairs  and  put  her  in  myself;  then  I  can 
have  a  chance  to  be  all  ready  to  go  to  the  counthry 
wid  ye." 

"  Come  close,  Biddy,"  said  Mrs.  Snett,  handing 
out  a  basket  to  her,  and  adding,  "  I  will  call  for 
Mrs.  Rose  to-morrow  at  eleven  o'clock.  Good 
morning,  Clarence ;  give  my  best  love  to  your 
mamma." 

Then  ordering  the  coachman  to  drive  home,  the 
carriage  was  soon  out  of  sight. 

"  I  am  sorry  mamma  would  not  see  Mrs.  Snett," 
said  Clarence,  as  he  ascended  the  staircase,  followed 
by  Biddy,  with  the  basket  on  her  arm. 

"  Indade,  and  indade,  it  was  all  me  own  doing ; 
I  wouldn't  have  the  lady  see  my  mistress  in  such  a 
'bominable  room  for  all  the  gould  in  Californy." 

"  Then  you  took  it  upon  yourself  to  refuse?" 

"  Sure,  I  did ;  don't  you  think  I've  got  some 
pride  for  the  family  I've  sarved  a  dozen  years? 
Biddy  knows  what  she's  about." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  "  'bominable 
room." 

Mrs.  Rose  was  sitting  up  in  the  one  chair,  an  old 
wooden  one,  dressed  in  a  rich  but  faded  blue  silk, 


192  TRUE   MANLINESS. 

with  a  red  Cashmere  shawl  —  a  real  Cashmere  — 
wrapped  about  her,  and  a  pair  of  silk  shoes  upon 
her  small  feet.  The  beloved  Cashmere  was  the 
only  article  of  great  value  she  had  retained,  and 
that  she  had  clung  to  desperately,  having  made  it, 
as  many  do,  quite  an  idol. 

Clarence  was  struck  with  the  painful  contrast  be 
tween  her  dress  and  the  surroundings.  It  was 
pitiful  indeed ;  but  he  said,  cheerily,  "  I  am  right 
glad  to  see  you  better  to-day,  mamma  ;  I  hope  you 
will  soon  be  quite  well  again." 

"  This  is  the  first  time  I  have  been  dressed  since 
I  left  that  horrid  hotel.  Biddy  was  so  anxious  to 
see  me  sitting  up,  that  I  have  made  the  effort,  and 
I  feel  really  better  for  it." 

Biddy  now  came  forward  with  a  board  on  which 
she  was  accustomed  to  iron,  and  on  the  board  was 
now  placed  what  she  called  a  u  lunchy." 

This  consisted  of  sandwiches,  wine  jelly,  and  ice 
cream,  in  beautiful  china  and  glass. 

With  a  ceremonious  courtesy,  Biddy  presented  the 
tray  before  Mrs.  Rose,  who  looked  at  it  with  as 
much  astonishment  as  if  it  had  dropped  from  the 
skies  ;  she,  however,  asked  no  questions ;  for  in 
her  weak,  suffering  condition,  she  had  yielded  her 
self  entirely  to  Biddy's  care  and  control. 

Mrs.  Rose  eagerly  helped  herself,  looking  at  the 
beautiful  plate,  upon  which  she  placed  a  sandwich, 
with  childish  delight. 


PETE.  198 

Biddy  then  handed  the  tray  to  Clarence,  giving 
him  a  mischievous  wink,  as  he  took  a  saucer  of  ice 
cream  ;  as  much  as  to  say,  "  We  know,  we  know." 

Clarence  took  the  hint,  and  said  nothing  about 
Mrs.  Snett. 

"  I  think  I  shall  be  able  to  go  with  you,  dear, 
when  the  storm  is  over,"  said  Mrs.  Rose,  as  she  took 
a  glass  of  jelly  ;  "  I  grow  stronger  every  minute." 

After  a  half  hour's  talk,  Mrs.  Rose  appeared 
fatigued,  and  Clarence  bade  her  "  good  morning," 
leaving  it  for  Biddy  to  give  such  information  as  she 
pleased  about  the  call  of  Mrs.  Snett,  and  the  ar 
rangements  for  the  morrow. 

Much  to  his  satisfaction,  Clarence  passed  the 
hours  till  dinner-time  at  the  rooms  of  the  Histori 
cal  Society,  examining,  with  intelligent  curiosity, 
the  various  contributions  to  nature  and  art. 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

PETE. 

THE  next  morning,  before  breakfast,  the  postman 
brought  a  letter  to  Clarence  from  Pete.  It  was 
addressed  to  "Clarence  Rose  Paverley,  Esq.,  to  be 
left  at  No.  14  Waverley  Place,  for  him.  City  of 
New  York." 

13 


194  TRUE  MANLINESS. 

Clarence  had  mentioned  Mr.  Fenton's  address  in 
his  letter  home.  Pete  wrote  as  follows  :  — 

DEAR  CLARENCE  :  Didn't  you  have  a  time,  find 
ing  your  mammy !  I'm  glad  you  did  find  her  at 
last,  and  such  a  grand  friend  as  Mr.  Fenton ;  isn't 
he  bully?  Don't  get  too  grand  yourself,  you  know 
you  kinder  lean  that  way.  There  isn't  much  news 
to  tell ;  we  are  getting  along  pretty  much  after  the 
old  way,  if  the  spring  comes  on  early,  we  shall 
begin  to  plough  soon.  What  do  you  think  has 
happened  to  ^our  old  speckled  hen  Nabby !  Why 
she  up  and  died,  leaving  her  five  chicks  for  me  to 
bring  up  by  hand.  Three  of  them  are  yellow, 
and  two  speckled.  The  yellow  ones  I've  named 
Rough  and  Ready,  Fuss  and  Feathers,  and  Old 
Hickory,  the  speckled,  Grace  Darling,  and  Bunchy. 
Rough  and  Ready  is  a  real  fighter ;  he  tries  to 
drive  away  Bunchy,  from  the  feed,  I  give  from 
my  hand,  Indian  meal  and  water,  you  know  lie 
has  a  special  spite  against  Bunchy,  I  suppose  it 
is  because  she's  so  ugly,  like  you  Clarence,  Rough 
and  Ready  don't  like  ugly  things.  You  didn't  like 
your  old  blue  cap,  O  you  would  soon  get  back, 
your  city  notions.  We've  got  the  parlor  all  fixed 
up  for  your  mammy,  everything  in  apple-pie  order. 
Mother  says  she  don't  believe,  the  poor  lady  will 
be  able  to  travel,  as  soon  as  you  thought,  and  that 
is  the  reason  I  write  to  you  now,  hoping  you 


PETE.  195 

will  get  this  as  directed.  I  set  down  as  soon,  as 
we  got  your  letter,  and  wrote  ;  I  haven't  put  any 
date,  for  I  haven't  got  the  Almanac,  and  don't  re 
member  it.  Lucy  would  send  some  message  if  she 
knew  I  was  writing,  but  she  don't,  nor  don't  mother, 
'cause,  I  didn't  want  to  tell  her  that  I  send  you  five 
dollars  in  this,  'cause  I'm  afraid  you  won't  have 
money  enough  to  get  home  without,  If  you  think 
you  will,  though,  pay  it  to  Mr.  Hosea  Fenton  on 
account,  or  buy  some  seeds  for  Sandy,  just  which 
you  think  best.  Clarence,  you  are  a  queer  fellow, 
I  can't  quite  make  you  out,  any  way  I  can  fix  it. 
I  am  your  brother,  to  command,  &c.,  &c. 

PETER  PAVERLEY. 

P,  S,  Now  I  think  on't,  you  may  spend  one 
dollar,  of  my  money  to  buy  a  farming-book,  you 
know  what  I  mean,  some  good  book,  all  about 
farmers,  and  farming. 

P,  S,  Number  2.  I  don't  know  how,  to  make 
my  stops,  properly  so  I  have  scattered,  them  all  the 
way,  through  about  regular,  distances  just  as  I 
plant  corn. 

At  the  breakfast-table  Mr.  Fenton  told  Clarence 
that  the  weather  was  too  severe  for  Mrs.  Rose  to 
venture  out,  and  that  Mrs.  Snett  ought  not  to  go 
for  her. 

"  I  advise  you  to  step  in  after  breakfast,  and  say 


196  TRUE  MANLINESS. 

to  that  good  lady,  with  my  compliments,  that  I  do 
not  think  it  prudent  for  an  invalid  to  venture  out  in 
this  storm.  Then  go  and  tell  Mrs.  Rose  so.  After 
you  have  seen  her,  come  back  here  and  write  to 
Harvey.  Tell  him  candidly,  and  fully  too,  all  you 
have  told  me  since  you  have  been  in  the  city.  A 
steamer  for  Havre  leaves  to-morrow,  and  I  will 
forward  your  letter." 

Clarence  followed  Mr.  Fenton's  advice. 

To  his  surprise,  when  he  mentioned  this  advice  to 
Mrs.  Rose,  she  had  not  heard  a  word  from  Biddy 
about  such  an  arrangement  as  had  been  made  the 
day  previous. 

"  Clarence,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Rose,  sadly,  "  I 
wouldn't  go  to  Mrs.  Snett's  on  any  account.  I 
have  nothing  fit  to  wear.  Look  at  my  old  faded 
finery,  and  I  am  sure  you  will  excuse  the  small 
remnant  of  pride  I  have  left.  I  am  truly  grateful 
for  her  kindness.  I  cast  my  bread  upon  the  waters 
in  this  instance,  and  it  has  returned  to  me.  There 
is  such  a  thing  as  gratitude  in  the  world.  Here  are 
three  persons  who  prove  it  —  Mrs.  Snett,  yourself, 
and  my  kind  Biddy." 

"  But  would  it  not  be  well  for  you  to  try  your 
strength,  mamma,  by  going  first  to  Mrs.  Snett's 
if  the  weather  should  be  pleasant  to-morrow  ;  and, 
besides,  you  would  then  give  Biddy  an  opportunity 
to  attend  to  what  preparations  *are  necessary  for 
moving." 


PETE.  197 

"  Biddy  has  already  disposed  of  all  her  worldly 
possessions  to  a  fellow-tenant,"  replied  Mrs.  Rose, 
with  a  sad  smile,  "  and  has  gone  out  to  buy  me 
a  coarse  cloak-  for  travelling.  I  shall  be  ready  to 
go  to-morrow  if  the  weather  proves  favorable." 

Poor  Biddy  to  buy  a  cloak  with  her  own  money, 
and  Mrs.  Rose  to  wear  a  cashmere  worth  eight 
hundred  dollars !  What  a  lesson  on  the  love  of 
dress  —  the  ruling  passion,  strong  in  sickness  and 
poverty  !  The  lesson  was  not  lost  upon  Clarence* 

"  So  you  leave  me  to-morrow,  Clarence,  should 
the  weather  be  favorable,"  said  Mr.  Fenton,  as 
they  were  seated  in  the  library  at  the  usual  hour  in 
the  evening. 

"  I  do,  sir." 

"  And  you  expect  to  be  able  to  maintain  Mrs. 
Rose,  at  your  mother's." 

"  We  are  willing  to  do  so." 

uBut  are  you  able?" 

"  I  have  heard  of  an  old  proverb  —  '  Where 
there's  a  will  there's  a  way ; '  and  I  am  beginning 
to  find  the  truth  of  it,"  replied  Clarence,  with  a 
bright  smile. 

"  Very  well.  A  strong  will  is  an  excellent  thing. 
No  one  can  be  truly  manly  without  a  strong  will ; 
but  the  will  must  be  governed  by  right  principles 
and  good  sense.  Fools  are  obstinate ;  wise  men 
are  reasonable  and  open  to  conviction.  I  have 
become  much  interested  in  you,  Clarence,  and  shall 


198  TRUE   MANLINESS. 

be  sorry  to  part  with  you.  It  may  seem  strange  to 
you  that  I  do  not  assist  you  in  a  pecuniary  way." 

"  No,  indeed,"  interrupted  Clarence,  eagerly ; 
"  I  have  not  thought  of  such  aid,  nor  wished  for  it. 
I  am  exceedingly  obliged  to  you  for  all  your  kind 
ness  since  I  have  been  in  the  city." 

"  And  I  intend  to  continue  that  interest.  I  shall 
wish  to  hear  from  you,  from  time  to  time,  by  letter. 
You  must  make  your  own  way  in  the  world.  We 
talk  about  great  men  having  been  self-made.  In 
fact  there  is  no  such  thing ;  they  are  God-made. 
From  the  first  there  was  the  original  character, 
with  its  faculties  and  tendencies  ;  then,  the  influence 
of  circumstances,  the  '  guinea  stamp,'  as  your  friend 
Sandy  would  say." 

"  But  the  man's  the  gold  for  all  that,  and  all  that." 

"  Some  men  become  brass,  others  iron,  and 
others  nothing  but  dull  lead.  I  hope  for  you, 
Clarence,  better  things.  You  were,  for  a  while, 
placed  under  circumstances  not  favorable  to  a  true, 
manly  development  of  character  ;  but  you  are  over 
coming  those  weakening  influences,  and,  I  have  no 
doubt,  with  God's  help  you  will  overcome  them 
entirely.  You  will,  in  part,  be  under  the  same 
influence  again.  Do  not  be  misled  through  your 
kindness.  You  have  the  example  of  an  excellent 
Christian  mother  and  sister,  and,  if  I  am  not  mis 
taken,  your  younger  brother  has  a  strong  char- 


PETE.  199 

"  He  lias,  sir,  a  stronger  character  than  mine ; 
but  he  is  as  rough  as  a  bear." 

"  Well,  polish  is  not  effected  upon  soft  materials. 
The  diamond,  for  example,  receives  polish ;  sand 
stone  does  not.  The  polish  that  a  man  needs  is  not 
the  external  flourish  and  pretension  of  a  dandy ; 
but  an  American  should  be  a  plain  gentleman,  — 
gentle  —  that  is  the  suaviter  in  modo  —  man,  the 

FORTITER   IN   RE. 

"  You  say  you  are  a  gardener,"  continued  Mr. 
Fenton  ;  "  here  are  some  books  I  have  purchased 
for  you  on  gardening,  and  two  on  architecture  ;  for 
I  think  in  time  you  may  be  disposed  to  unite  the 
two  arts." 

The  books  were  beautifully  bound,  and  illustrated 
with  colored  engravings. 

"  You  have  room  for  them  in  your  carpet-bag," 
said  Mr.  Fenton,  as  Clarence,  quite  overcome  with 
surprise,  was  for  a  moment  unable  to  speak.  He 
found  his  voice,  however,  and  warmly  thanked  Mr. 
Fenton  for  the  beautiful  present. 

"  I  perceive  .that  you  have  taste  that  only  needs 
cultivation  to  render  you  a  genuine  artist  in  your 
line.  It  is  a  good  gift,  and  you  will,  no  doubt,  make 
a  right  use  of  it,"  he  continued;  "I  haven't  told 
you  the  latest  news  from  Harvey.  He  intends 
to  be  home  in  May  or  June." 

"  Indeed !  How  happy  we  shall  all  be  to  see 
him  !  Where  is  he  now  ?  " 


200  TRUE   MANLINESS. 

"  Still  in  Italy.  No  traveller  has  enjoyed  Rome 
more  than  our  young  friend.  He  has  been  study 
ing  the  history  of  that  wonderful  empire  in  its  rise 
and  decline  in  the  midst  of  its  magnificent  remains, 
and  I  hope  he  has  learned  many  things  from  that 
history  that  will  render  him  useful  to  his  own  coun 
try  on  his  return.  One  thing  he  says  he  has  learned 
by  travelling  more  perfectly  than  any  other." 

"What  is  that?" 

u  To  prize  his  own  country,  its  government  and 
institutions,  its  varied  climate  and  soil,  its  strong- 
minded  men,  and  its  virtuous,  noble  women..  I  trust 
he  will  return  prepared  for  a  whole-souled  patriot 
and  widely-useful  citizen.  His  boyhood  has  been 
one  of  rich  promise." 

The  next  morning  was  clear  and  bright ;  the 
deep-blue  March  sky  spanning  the  city  was  almost 
as  pure  as  when  seen  through  the  softened  brown 
tracery  of  the  budding  trees  of  the  country. 

Mrs.  Rose,  cheered  with  the  expectation  of  a 
change  from  her  doleful  lodgings,  was  in  readiness 
for  Clarence,  at  an  early  hour,  to  go  to  the  station. 
When  the  carriage  arrived  at  the  door  of  the  tene 
ment-house  (it  was  Mr.  Fenton's  handsome  car 
riage),  a  crowd  of  squalid  urchins  gathered  around 
it,  and  not  a  few  heads  were  thrust  out  of  the  win 
dows  to  see  the  novel  sight  —  some  in  night-caps, 
and  others  with  caps  whose  wide  borders  were 
blown  back  by  the  morning  wind ;  others  with 


PETE.  201 

unkempt  hair  streaming  about  their  begrimed  faces. 
Wickedness  and  woe  dwelt  there.  Clarence  abso 
lutely  shuddered  at  the  shocking  appearance  of  the 
front  of  this  miserable  tenement,  and  hurried  up 
the  long  staircase.  With  the  aid  of  Biddy,  Clar 
ence  carried  Mrs.  Rose  down  those  horrid  stairs, 
and  placed  her  in  the  vehicle  which  had  attracted 
so  much  attention. 

An  express  wagon  had  now  arrived,  into  which 
Biddy  placed  trunks,  budgets,  bundles,  boxes,  and 
parcels,  almost  enough  to  fill  the  wagon.  This  was 
a  matter  of  surprise  to  Clarence,  but  he  asked  no 
questions,  and  they  drove  oif  to  the  station. 

No  incidents  worth  mentioning  occurred  on  the 
journey.  They  arrived  safely,  at  nightfall,  at  the 
white  cottage,  and  were  cordially  welcomed  by  the 
good  mother  and  her  children. 

"  What  lots  of  baggage  !  "  exclaimed  Pete,  as  he 
aided  Biddy  in  carrying  in  the  multitudinous  and 
multiform  articles. 

Indeed,  the  little  parlor  could  scarcely  contain  all 
those  trunks,  boxes,  &c.  How  did  Biddy  ever  con 
trive  to  accommodate  them  in  her  kitchen-like  room 
at  the  tenement-house  !  Mrs.  Rose  was  too  much 
fatigued  to  take  notice  of  the  little  parlor  that  even 
ing  ;  but  the  next  morning,  when  she  awoke,  she 
looked  around,  and  exclaimed,  "  Where  am  I? 
How  neat  and  sweet !  " 

The  change  was  indeed  very  delightful  from  that 


202  TRUE   MANLINESS. 

smoky  room,  with  its  dark,  dingy  walls,  to  this 
bright,  cheerful  apartment. 

Soon  Lucy  came  in  with  a  tray,  on  which  was  a 
nice  breakfast,  tea  and  toast,  and  a  broiled  young 
pigeon  from  Pete's  pigeon-house. 

"  And  you  are  Clarence's  sister,"  said  Mrs.  Rose  ; 
"  you  do  resemble  him,  strikingly.  "Where  is  Biddy  ? 
She  ought  to  yvait  upon  me." 

"  She  has  been,  it  seems,  accustomed  to  a  dairy, 
and  was  so  delighted  with  ours  that  she  begged  to 
churn  the  butter,  and  let  me  wait  upon  you." 

"  And  do  you  churn  butter?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  You  don't  seem  like  a  milkmaid  at  all,  unless 
one  of  those  fancy  milkmaids  of  romance  and 
poetry,"  said  Mrs.  Rose^  looking  admiringly  at 
Lucy,  \vho  smiled,  saying,  — 

"  I  am  no  fancy  milkmaid  or  dairy-woman,  but 
a  genuine  country  girl,  accustomed  to  hard  work, 
and,  formerly,  to  hard  fare.  Now  we  are  very 
comfortable,  and  hope  we  shall  be  able  to  make 
you  so." 

Mrs.  Rose,  after  breakfast,  dressed  herself  in  one 
of  those  old,  faded  silk  gowns,  and  wrapped  her  old 
cashmere,  that  beloved  cashmere,  about  her  shoul 
ders.  She  then  proceeded,  with  Biddy's  aid,  to 
unpack  her  trunks  and  boxes. 

What  lots  of  old  finery  !  Mrs.  Rose  had  said  that 
she  was  obliged  to  dispose  of  a  part  of  her  ward- 


PETE.  203 

robe  in  order  to  obtain  money  to  pay  her  expenses 
home.  What  remained  of  that  wardrobe  was 
enough  for  three  or  four  women  of  moderate  re 
quirements  —  laces  of  the  most  costly  kind,  which, 
Biddy  said,  were  "  as  yallow  as  gould,"  and  Mrs. 
Rose  declared  were  all  the  better  for  that ;  artificial 
flowers  enough  to  fit  out  a  country  milliner's  show- 
box  ;  ribbons  of  all  shades  and  hues ;  satin,  silk, 
and  kid  shoes  ;  lace  veils  ;  white  and  black  bonnets, 
of  various  fashions ;  and,  withal,  not  one  single, 
simple  calico,  or  other  dress  suitable  to  wear  among 
the  plain,  honest  people  at  the  white  cottage. 

When  Mrs.  Paverley  came  in,  about  eleven 
o* clock,  to  inquire  after  the  health  of  her  guest,  she 
was  astonished  at  the  display  of  these  articles,  as 
they  were  spread  out  on  bed,  bureau,  chairs,  and 
table. 

"  I  hope,  ma'am,  you  are  quite  better  this  morn 
ing,"  said  she,  looking  much  astonished  at  the 
lady  in  silk  and  cashmere,  with  a  lace  cap,  trimmed 
with  scarlet  ribbons,  stuck  on  the  back  of  her  head. 

"  Thank  you,  Mrs.  Paverley  ;  I  feel  quite  well ; 
but  where  is  Clarence  ?  Why  didn't  he  come  in  to 
see  me  this  morning  ?  " 

"  He  has  gone  to  his  work.  We  breakfast  at 
five  o'clock  at  this  season  of  the  year,  and  he  works 
in  our  garden  for  an  hour  before  he  goes  to  Linden 
Hill." 

"  So  early  !  I  should  think  it  would  wear  him 
out." 


204  TRUE   MANLINESS. 

"  He  is  perfectly  healthy,  and,  I  think,  is  very 
happy,  too." 

"  You  all  seem  so,"  said  Mrs.  Rose,  casting  a 
look  at  Mrs.  Paverley's  homespun  dress  and  her 
blue,  checked  apron,  and  then,  with  a  sigh,  turn 
ing  to  her  own  gay  attire,  as  she  thought  how 
utterly  unsuitable  it  was  for  her  present  circum 
stances. 

Mrs.  Paverley  had  no  longer  the  sad  countenance 
and  miserable  appearance  with  which  she  had  pre 
sented  herself  at  Mr.  Warren's  when  she  went  for 
Clarence.  She  now  looked  younger  than  Mrs. 
Rose,  though  some  years  her  senior. 

"  Where  did  you  keep  all  those  things  in  the 
city,  —  dresses,  and  bonnets,  and  shawls,  and  all 
sorts  of  fancy  affairs  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Paverley  of 
Biddy,  when  she  met  her,  after  leaving  Mrs.  Rose. 

"  Why,  ma'am"  (we  will  not  attempt  to  give  the 
Irish  brogue),  "we  hired  a  woman  to  keep  the 
trunks  and  boxes.  I  was  sorry  to  give  my  mistress 
such  poor  'commodations,  she  who  had  lived  so 
grandly.  You  know,  she  went  first  to  a  big  hotel, 
where  she  had  to  pay  three  or  four  dollars  a  day, — 
that  was  too  spensive  ;  so  she  come  to  my  poor 
lodgings.  I  sold  some  of  her  nice  things  for  her, 
enough  to  pay  for  her  board.  Don't  think,  ina'tim, 
she  lived  on  poor  Biddy.  She  wouldn't  do  such 
a  thing.  But  then,  you  know,  she  couldn't  bear  to 
let  her  grand  acquaintance  know  she  was  not  the 


Jl   VISIT  TO  THE  GARDEN.  205 

same  great  lady  she  was  when  Master  Clarence 
lived  with  us.  She  thought,  poor  dear,  that  she 
was  going  to  die,  and  kept  a  great  many  things,  so 
that  when  she  died  she  might  have  a  decent  burial. 
She  wanted  to  be  buried  from  Grace  Church,  and 
have  as  grand  a  funeral  as  any  lady  in  the  land." 

Mrs.  Paverley  could  scarcely  believe  Biddy's  re 
port  of  Mrs.  Rose's  intentions,  and  the  singular 
pride  thus  evinced ;  doubtless  allowance  ought  to 
be  made  for  Biddy's  Irish  exaggeration,  and  her 
Irish  notions  about  funerals. 


CHAPTEE    XXX. 

A   VISIT   TO   THE    GAEDEN. 

MARCH,  with  his  fierce  winds,  had  given  place  to 
weeping  and  smiling  April ;  and  April  had  yielded 
to  her  more  genial  sister,  the  English  poet's  darling, 
May ;  who,  in  turn,  must  yield  the  palm  to  our 
June  —  rosy,  laughing  June. 

For  the  first  time  since  her  arrival  at  the  Paverley 
cottage,  Mrs.  Rose  walked  to  Linden  Hill.  It  was 
one  of  those  cool  days  in  May  which  usually  follow 
a  rain-storm.  The  sky  was  as  pure  as  the  rose 
that  "  had  been  washed,  just  washed  in  a  shower  ;  " 
and  the  fresh  grass  reminded  Mrs.  Rose  of  a  beloved 


206  TRUE   MANLINESS. 

green  and  flowered  velvet  carpet,  the  crowning  glory 
of  her  former  elegantly-furnished  mansion.  So  she 
wrapped  her  Cashmere  about  her,  and  picking  her 
way  carefully,  she  followed  the  direction  given  her 
at  the  cottage,  and  found  Clarence  at  work  in  the 
garden,  transplanting  flowers  from  the  green-house. 
He  was  stooping  over  a  bed  of  verbenas  of  various 
hues,  when  he  was  startled  by  the  sound  of  a  famil 
iar  voice :  "  Clarence,  darling,  hard  at  work ;  you 
will  kill  yourself.  Why,  you  have  been  here  ever 
since  six  this  morning,  and  now  it  is  nearly  four 
o'clock." 

"  I  allowed  myself  one  hour  for  dinner,  and  an 
other  hour  for  reading  at  noon.  There's  no  danger 
of  my  hurting  myself,  Mrs.  Rose  ;  I  enjoy  work. 
I  am  obliged  to  do  more  than  usual,  because  I  am 
in  debt,  and  I  am  trying  to  get  out  of  it.  You 
know  I  was  robbed  of  thirty  dollars  in  New  York, 
and  I  have  had  to  make  up  that  sum  by  extra  work. 
Sandy,  the  head  gardener,  has  given  me  a  piece  of 
ground  that  Mr.  Amadore  allowed  him  to  use  solely 
for  himself.  Sandy  has  given  it  to  me  for  the  same 
purpose,  and  I  am  raising  flowers  for  market  upon 
it.  I  have  made  twenty  dollars  already." 

"  You  call  me  Mrs.  Rose,  Clarence,  and  no  longer 
mamma,  as  you  used  to,"  said  she,  sadly  ;  "I  know 
I  cannot  do  for  you  what  I  once  could." 

u  Don't  think  that  is  the  reason  for  the  change ; 
far  from  it.  I  am  too  old  and  huge  a  fellow  now 


A   VISIT  TO  THE   GARDEN.  207 

to  be  calling  any  one  mamma ;  it  sounds  babyish. 
But  please  excuse  me  if  I  go  on  with  my  work ; 
these  verbenas  must  all  be  covered  from  the  sun, 
and  I  was  going  with  my  wheelbarrow  for  some 
flower-pots  to  cover  them  with." 

So  saying,  Clarence  trundled  off  the  wheelbar 
row,  and  left  Mrs.  Rose  meditating  for  several  min 
utes.  While  she  was  thus  lost  in  thought,  she  was 
suddenly  aware  of  the  presence  of  a  stranger,  a 
boy,  or,  rather,  a  young  man,  of  prepossessing  ap 
pearance,  apparently  a  couple  of  years  older  than 
Clarence. 

He  bowed  politely,  and  passed  on.  Just  then 
Clarence  appeared  with  the  wheelbarrow,  loaded 
with  the  empty  flower-pots. 

"  Is  it  possible  !  "  he  exclaimed,  letting  the  han 
dles  of  the  barrow  drop  suddenly.  "  Can  it  be  Mr. 
Amadore  ! " 

u  Quite  possible,  Clarence  ;  how  are  you?"  with 
a  cordial  shake  of  the  hand.  "  Have  I,  then,  altered 
so  much  in  appearance,  during  my  absence  ?  " 

"You  have  indeed;  you  have  grown  very  tall, 
and  absolutely  wear  a  mustache.  When  did  you 
arrive  ?  " 

"By  the  last  steamer  from  Liverpool ;  and  I  made 
my  way  directly  home,  with  the  exception  of  a  few 
hours  I  passed  with  Mr.  Fenton  in  New  York." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mrs.  Rose,"  said  Clarence, 
as  that  lady  stood  \vouderiug  at  the  rencontre. 


208  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

"  Mr.  Amadore,  Mrs.  Rose,  the  friend  whom  I  used 
to  call  mamma  when  we  were  at  school." 

Mrs.  Rose  greeted  Harvey  very  coolly,  quite  to 
the  surprise  of  Clarence ;  and  saying  she  was  fa 
tigued  with  the  long  walk,  left  the  garden. 

"  My  poor  verbenas  will  suffer  if  I  do  not  cover 
them,"  said  Clarence ;  "  I  must  go  on  with  my 
business.  Just  look  at  them.  Are  they  not  splen 
did  !  Soon  we  shall  have  a  display  of  rhododen 
drons  worth  looking  at.  I  meant  they  should  come 
out  in  all  their  glory  in  honor  of  your  arrival ;  but 
you  have  taken  them  and  me  by  surprise." 

While  Clarence  was  saying  this  he  continued  his 
work,  much  to  the  amusement  of  Harvey,  who 
could  scarcely  realize  that  Clarence  had  become  an 
enthusiastic  "  lover  of  flowers." 

"  How  are  Mrs.  Paverley,  and  Miss  Lucy,  and 
Peter  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  Well,  thank  you.  Isn't  that  a  magnificent  ver 
bena  ?  So  bright  a  scarlet  it  fairly  dazzles  your  eyes 
like  the  sun." 

"  I  must  go  and  find  Aunty  Dotty,"  said  Harvey. 
"  Clarence,  come  to  the  Hall  this  evening ;  I  have 
something  to  tell  you  from  your  good  friend,  Mr. 
Fenton." 

"  I  sent  him  a  bouquet,  last  week,  of  my  choicest 
flowers.  Did  he  receive  it?*" 

"  He  did,  and  was  much  pleased  with  it."  So 
saying,  Harvey  walked  on,  as  much  pleased  with 


A   VISIT  TO  THE   OARDEM.  209 

the  enthusiasm  of  Clarence  for  his  flowers,  as  Mr. 
Fenton  was  with  the  flowers  themselves. 

On  her  way  back  to  the  cottage,  Mrs.  Rose  was 
grumbling  to  herself  about  Harvey  Amadore. 
"  What  right  has  he  to  make  a  slave  of  Clarence  ! 
He,  an  old  schoolmate  an£  professed  friend !  It's 
too  bad  !  He  might  have  done  something  else  for 
him  better  than  making  him  a  gardener.  I  will 
give  Harvey  .Amadore  a  piece  of  my  mind,  when  I 
see  him  again." 

With  these  thoughts  troubling  her  brain  and  heart, 
she  was  walking  slowly  onward,  when  some  one 
came  up  with  her,  and  saluted  her  unceremoniously. 
It  was  Aunty  Dotty. 

"  So  you  are  the  gay  lady  living  on  the  good 
people  at  the  gardener's  cottage." 

Mrs.  Rose  stared  at  the  tall,  severe-looking  wo 
man,  astonished  and  displeased  at  this  abrupt  ad 
dress. 

"  She's  mad  at  me,"  muttered  Dotty ;  "  but  I 
don't  care  a  straw." 

Then  addressing  Mrs.  Rose  again,  "  You  don't 
know  me.  I  am  a  relation  of  Harvey  Amadore's. 
His  father  was  my  cousin.  I  have  the  charge  of 
Linden  Hall,  and  work  for  my  living.  I  don't 
hang  on  to  Harvey  because  he's  a  relation,  or  a 
friend.  I  might,  if  I  was  like  some  folks,"  she 
continued,  with  a  toss  of  her  head,  and  a  significant 
glance  at  Mrs.  Rose. 
14 


210  TRUE    MA.VLIMESS. 

" Do  you  mean  to  insult  me?"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Rose,  with  mingled  fear  and  anger. 

"  No  ;  I  mean  to  tell  you  the  plain  truth.  You 
are  an  expense  at  the  cottage  to  them  Paverleys, 
and  you  do  nothing  but  dress  up  fine  and  play  grand 
lady.  Now  I  should  lik$  to  know  haw  much  that 
shawl  cost  that  you  wear  so  proudly." 

"It  is  my  own,  and  I  have  a  right  to  wear  it. 
You  are  very  impertinent." 

"  But  please  tell  me  how  much  that  shawl  cost." 

"  Eight  hundred  dollars,"  blurted  out  Mrs.  Rose^ 
angrily. 

"  Eight  hundred  dollars  !  Why,  the  Paverleys 
could  live  on  that  money  two  whole  years." 

"  Have  they  complained  of  my  living  with 
them?" 

"  Not  a  word  of  complaint,  I'll  venture  to  say, 
from  them.  They  are  grateful  to  you  for  taking 
care  of  the  boy  for  so  many  years,  though  you  were 
spoiling  him  with  high  and  foolish  notions." 

"  You  are  positively  insulting.  I  wish  you  would 
leave  me.  You  are  even  worse  than  Harvey  Am- 
adore." 

"  Harvey  Amadore  !  What  in  the  world  has  he 
done  to  you  ?  " 

"  Nothing  to  me,  directly  ;  I  never  saw  him  till 
to-day." 

"To-day  !  Where  have  you  seen  him  to-day?" 
•  "  Just  now  ;  in  the  garden  at  Linden  Hall." 


SOMETHING    NOT    TOLD.  211 

"  Goodness  me  !  "  exclaimed  Miss  Dotty,  turning 
round,  and  walking  back  to  Linden  Hall  as  fast  as 
her  feet  could  carry  her. 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

• 

SOMETHING   NOT   TOLD. 

AFTER  tea,  that  same  evening,  Clarence  prepared 
himself  to  go^to  Linden  Hall  to  meet  Harvey. 

"  Now  you  look  something  as  you  used  to,"  said 
Mrs.  Rose.  "  Come  and  sit  awhile  in  my  room, 
before  you  go  to  see  that  proud  Harvey  Amadore." 

"  I  have  a  half  hour  to  spare,"  said  Clarence,  as 
they  seated  themselves  at  a  window,  through  which 
the  last  rays  of  the  setting  sun  were  glinting  into 
the  room,  and  gorgeous  clouds  of  purple  and  gold 
Avere  curtaining  the  glowing  west. 

"Why  do  you  call  Harvey  Amadore  proud  ?  I 
am  sure  you  could  have  seen  nothing  in  his  manner 
to-day  that  was  proud  or  haughty,"  asked  Clarence. 

"  He  was  your  schoolmate  and  friend  ;  why  then 
docs  he  place  you  now  in  a  station  so  far  below 
himself?  " 

"  I  am  in  the  station  in  which  I  was  born.  You 
took  me  from  it,  Mrs.  Rose,  no  doubt  with  the 
kindest  intentions,  and  I  am  grateful  to  you  for  all 


212  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

your  care  and  kindness  ;  but  it  was  the  will  of 
Providence  that  I  should  return  to  that  station. 
My  mother  is  a  truly  excellent  woman,  perfectly 
contented  with  her  lot ;  and  you  know  what  Lucy  is." 

"  Lucy  is  one  of  a  thousand,"  interrupted  Mrs. 
Rose  ;  "  she  would  grace  any  station." 

"  And  yet  she  has  no  aspirations  after  any  other 
condition  in  life  than  that  to  which  God  has  called 
her." 

"  Pete  is  just  fit  for  a  farmer,  common  and  un 
refined.  I  don't  mind  his  having  hard,  brown 
hands  and  a  freckled  face,  but  I  do  grieve  over  the 
change  in  you.  from  those  soft,  white  hands  and  fair 
complexion,  to  the  condition  in  which  they  now 
are,"  said  Mrs.  Rose,  with  a  sigh.  "  Couldn't  you 
wear  gloves  when  you  are  at  work  in  the  garden, 
if  work  you  must  ?  " 

Clarence  could  not  help  laughing  at  this  question. 
Instead  of  answering  it,  he  said,  — 

"  Pete  is  a  noble  fellow ;  you  don't  understand 
him.  He  is  as  faithful  as  yonder  sun,  and  as  honest 
as  the  man  Diogenes  was  looking  for.  The  philos 
opher  needn't  have  gone  a  step  farther  if  he  had 
found  our  Pete.  He  might  have  turned  the  full 
light  of  his  lantern  upon  him  without  finding  the 
least  deceitfulness  in  word  or  deed." 

"  You  are  warm  in  your  brother's  defence." 

"Ami?  Well,  he  deserves  it.  His  true  man 
liness  has  been  an  example  to  me,  which  I  have  only 
been  able  to  follow  at  a  humble  distance." 


SOMETHINO    JV07'    TOLD.  213 

"  Alas  !  alas  !  Your  own  relations  have  stolen 
your  love  from  your  mamma."  Overcome  by  her 
own  morbid  feelings,  Mrs.  Rose  burst  into  tears. 

Clarence  tried  to  soothe  her  in  vain.  She  fairly 
sobbed  aloud.  At  length  she  restrained  herself, 
and  listened  to  his  assurance,  that  he  still  felt  the 
tenderest  interest  in  her,  and  the  greatest  desire  for 
her  happiness. 

A  sudden  thought  seemed  to  strike  her,  and  she 
said,  — 

"  Now,  Clarence,  dear,  if  you  had  an  opportunity 
to  go  on  with  your  education,  and  to  prepare  your 
self  for  one  of  the  learned  professions,  would  you 
not  accept  it?" 

"  My  sentiments  on  this  subject  are  well  ex 
pressed  in  a  very  good  book,  from  which  I  copied 
an  extract.  I  have  the  extract  in  "my  pocket-book, 
or  wallet,  the  one  Mr.  Fenton  gave  me.  I  like  to 
put  good  things  in  it.  May  I  read  the  extract  to 
you?" 

"  If  you  please." 

"  '  It  is  God's  will  that  different  men  should  follow 
different  pursuits,  according  to  the  station  in  which 
they  were  born,  the  gifts  they  possess,  the  circum 
stances  in  which  they  find  themselves.  Bring  it 
down  to  individual  cases,  and  the  truth  still  holds. 
It  is  still  the  will  of  God  that  this  man  should  ply 
a  humble  craft ;  that  this  other  should  have  the 
duties  entailed  by  broad  acres  and  large  property ; 


214  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

that  a  third  should  go  to  the  desk  and  sit  behind  a 
counter  all  his  days ;  that  a  fourth  should  give  his 
time  to  the  restoration  of  sick  patients  ;  that  a  fifth 
should  fight  the  battles  of  his  country.  Now,  if 
this  is  God's  will  in  each  individual  case,  no  good, 
but  the  greatest  harm,  would  ensue  from  an  individ 
ual's  infringing  that  will ;  from  his  thrusting  him 
self  out  of  his  own  vocation  into  one  which  seems 
higher  and  more  dignified.  Each  man's  wisdom 
and  happiness  must  consist  in  doing,  as  well  as  his 
faculties  will  admit,  the  work  which  God  sets  him.' " 

Clarence  carefully  folded  the  little  paper,  and  re 
placed  it  in  the  old  leather  wallet. 

"  Now,  Mrs.  Rose,  you  see  I  am  doing  the  work 
to  which  Providence  has  called  me.  I  do  it  be 
cause  it  is  my  duty.  I  do  it  to  gain  my  daily  bread, 
and  I  find  pleasure  in  it.  God  made  flowers  and 
fruit  beautiful  and  good  at  the  creation,  but  he 
made  them,  besides,  capable  of  variety  and  improve 
ment,  by  cultivation,  to  almost  any  extent.  It  is 
no  wonder  that  men  have  turned  with  disgust  from 
the  cares  and  turmoil  of  a  public  and  high  station, 
to  the  cultivation  of  even  cabbages." 

Mrs.  Rose  was  silent  and  sorrowful,  but  not  con 
vinced. 

The  flowers  were  now  closing  their  petals  for 
their  nightly  rest,  and  the  birds  were  carolling  their 
vesper  hymn.  Clarence  kissed  Mrs.  Rose,  and  bade 
her  good  evening.  He  then  hastened  to  Linden 
Hall. 


SOMETHING    JVO71    TOLD.  215 

Mrs.  Rose  called  Biddy  to  her,  and  had  a  consul 
tation,  the  result  of  which  was,  that  her  faithful 
servant  should  leave  for  the  city  the  next  morning, 
on  business  of  importance. 

The  result  of  Harvey's  conversation  with  Clar 
ence  was  not  known,  even  to  his  own  family,  till 
nearly  two  years  after  it  took  place.  It  was,  how 
ever,  satisfactory  to  the  persons  whom  it  principally 
concerned. 

Bridget  was  absent  on  her  journey  to  the  city  for 
several  days.  During  this  time,  Mrs.  Rose  em 
ployed  herself  in  looking  over  her  trunks  and  boxes, 
and  making  selections  of  various  articles  from  their 
multitudinous  contents. 

She  insisted  upon  taking  care  of  her  room,  al 
though  she  said  she  had  never  made  up  a  bed  be 
fore,  or  swept  a  room,  in  her  life.  Lucy  offered  to 
assist  her,  but  was  peremptorily  refused. 

While  thus  employed  she  seemed  more  cheerful 
than  she  had  been  since  her  arrival  at  the  cottage ; 
the  country  air  and  plain  wholesome  food  had  en 
tirely  restored  her  to  health. 

Harvey  Amadore  called  at  the  cottage  the  day 
after  his  return,  and  was  most  cordially  received  by 
Mrs.  Paverley  and  Lucy.  He  asked  for  Mrs.  Rose, 
and  she  refused  to  see  him,  without  assigning  any 
reason. 

Various  conjectures  were  made  in  the  family 
about  the  object  of  Bridget's  journey,  and  Mrs. 


216  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

Rose's  occupation  in  her  room.  Pete  suggested 
that  the  lady  was  going  to  make  them  presents,  all 
round,  of  her  nice  things,  and  declared  that  she 
probably  would  give  him  a  pair  of  yellow  kid  gloves, 
like  those  Clarence  wore  when  he  came  home  to  the 
old  brown  cottage  with  his  mother. 

The  mystery  was  solved  when  Bridget  returned 
with  the  big  trunk  heavier  than  when  she  went 
away. 

Mrs.  Rose  made  known  her  intentions  at  the  tea- 
table  without  preamble. 

"  I  am  going  to  be  a  milliner." 

"A  milliner!  A  milliner!  Where?"  they  all 
exclaimed. 

"  In  the  village  or  town  of  Hodgton,  where  I  am 
a  perfect  stranger.  I  shall  take  my  maiden  name, 
and,  in  time,  put  out  my  sign  — '  Mrs.  Truebury, 
Milliner,  from  the  City.' " 

"  Mamma,  you  can't  be  in  earnest,"  exclaimed 
Clarence.  "  What  has  induced  you  to  form  such  a 
plan?" 

"  I  have  my  reasons,  and  will  tell  them  another 
time  to  Mrs.  Paverley.  But  you  must  see  the  caps 
and  bonnets  I  have  made  while  you  were  all  won 
dering  what  I  was  about.  I  always  had  a  turn  for 
making  tasty  caps  and  other  pretty  things,  and  I 
have  made  some  sweet  ones  now.  You  shall  see 
them." 

"  But  you  can't  set  up  a  millinery,  marm,  on  two 


SOMETHING    NOT    TOLD.  217 

bonnets  and  three  caps,"  said  Pete.  "  The  milliner, 
who  has  just  got  married,  and  left  her  shop,  had 
lots  and  lots  of  bonnets,  caps,  and  what-nots." 

"  Left  her  shop,  did  you  say?  " 

"Yes,  marm.  it's  just  next  to  the  post-office,  in 
Hodgton,  and  I  noticed,  yesterday,  that  it  had  a 
board  on  the  front  door  with  '  To  Let '  upon  it." 

"Now,  that  is  just  what  I  want  —  how  lucky! 
Why,  Pete,  you  see  everything  that  is  going  on,  in 
town  and  country." 

"  Yes,  marm,  I  generally  keep  my  eyes  open 
when  I'm  awake." 

Mrs.  Rose  asked  Mrs.  Paverley  and  Lucy  to  go 
to  her  room,  and  see  the  caps  and  bonnets.  They 
were  surprised  to  see  how  skilfully  and  tastefully 
they  were  made. 

u  I  always  have  put  away  the  pieces  of  silk  and 
lace  left  over  from  my  dresses ;  and  now,  you  see, 
they  have  come  to  use.  I  little  thought  what  I  was 
saving  them  for." 

Here  Mrs.  Rose  opened  the  trunk  Bridget  had 
taken  to  the  city,  and  from  a  number  of  other  arti 
cles  took  out  a  pattern  of  mousseline  de  laine  for  a 
dress,  and  handed  it  to  Mrs.  Paverley,  and  then 
another  for  Lucy. 

"  Please  accept  these  trifles,"  said  she. 

Mrs.  Paverley  and  Lucy  were  too  much  surprised 
for. a  moment  even  to  express  their  thanks. 

"  You  are  quite  astonished,"  said  Mr.s.  Rose,  de- 


218  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

lighted  with  having  produced  so  lively  a  sensation. 
"  You  need  not  be  afraid  to  accept  my  poor  gifts. 
They  are  paid  for.  You  must  know  I  had  an  idol, 
that  I  cherished  proudly  and  fondly.  I  gave  up  a 
great  many  things,  but  the  idol  I  had  long  wor 
shipped  I  could  not  sacrifice.  But  I  was  severely 
taunted  with  my  dependence  upon  others  ;  and  I 
saw  those,  on  wrhom  I  was  said  to  be  dependent, 
working,  cheerfully,  from  day  to  day  —  cheerfully 
and  constantly.  Then  a  thought  came  into  my 
head,  —  I  can't  tell  just  what  put  it  there,  —  if  I 
were  to  sell  my  idol,  I  might  do  a  great  deal  with 
the  money  it  would  bring.  Then  another  thought 
came  —  I  might,  instead  of  being  so  miserably 
lazy,  I  might  work,  toot  So  I  sent  Biddy  to  the 
city  with  my  idol  —  my  red  Cashmere  shawl.  It 
cost  eight  hundred  dollars ;  and  a  good  friend  of 
mine  bought  it  for  six  hundred,  and  with  a  part  of 
the  money  purchased  my  stock  of  goods  to  set  up 
with." 

Mrs.  Rose  laughed  heartily  at  the  wonder  ex 
pressed  on  the  countenances  of  the  listeners.  There 
was  no  bitterness  in  that  hearty,  natural  laugh. 

u  I  hope  you  have  not  done  this,  Mrs.  Rose,  be 
cause  you  have  thought  yourself  a  burden  to  us. 
We  have  not  been  so  ungrateful  as  to  forget  the 
many  years  of  kindness  shown  to  my  boy,"  said 
Mrs.  Paverley. 

"  No,  no.     You   have  been,  all  of  you,  tender 


SOMETHING    JVOT    TOLD.  219 

and  sweet  to  me  ;  but  I  have  been  seized  with  a 
wish  to  be  like  the  rest  of  you  —  independent,;  and 
by  a  slight  sacrifice  —  a  sacrifice. of  pride  —  I  can 
become  so." 

Then  Mrs.  Kose  took  from  the  trunk  another 
parcel,  saying,  — 

"  Here  are  two  suits  of  summer  clothes,  one  for 
Clarence  and  another  for  Pete.  I  hope  they  will 
like  them.  They  are  very  plain  and  simple." 

What  a  pleasure  it  was  to  Mrs.  Rose  to  be  able 
to  "  give,"  instead  of  always  to  "  receive"  !  How 
much  purer  and  more  satisfactory  the  enjoyment 
than  that  she  had  felt  in  wearing  the  Cashmere 
shawl ! 

Lucy  and  her  mother  expressed  their  thanks 
warmly,  and  admired  the  beautiful  dresses  which 
had  been  selected  for  them  by  the  friend  of  Mrs. 
Rose,  who  was  no  other  than  Mrs.  Sriett,  to  whom 
Biddy  had  been  sent  by  Mrs.  Rose.  Instead  of 
written  directions,  Biddy  was  left  to  tell  the  whole 
story  in  her  own  Irish,  eloquent  way,  and  her  suc 
cess  was  complete. 

"  And  now  I  have  a  favor  to  ask  of  you,  Lucy," 
said  Mrs.  Rose,  as  she  closed  the  big  trunk.  "Will 
you  take  me  in  the  wagon  to  Hqdgton  to-day?  I 
want  to  look  at  the  milliner's  shop,  and,  if  it  will 
suit  me,  to  rent  it." 

"  Certainly.  I  will  with  pleasure,  if  you  will 
consent  to  ride  in  our  homely  vehicle,  with  old 
Patchy." 


220  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

"•  Now,  Lucy,  don't  mortify  me  by  talking  in  that 
way.^  You  must  know,  in  giving  up  my  idol,  I 
subdued  my  pride  ;  and  I  haven't  been  as  happy 
as  I  am  to-day  for  many,  many  years." 

As  the  two  were  driving  into  Hodgton,  a  few 
hours  subsequently  to  the  conversation  at  the  white 
cottage,  Lucy  said  to  her  companion,  — 

"  I  hope,  Mrs.  Rose,  that  you  will  give  your  own 
name,  if  you  find  the  house  in  the  village  suits  you." 

"  Mrs.  Truebury  is  my  own  name  in  one  sense." 

"  But  Mrs.  Rose  is  your  own  name  in  every 
sense.  You  will  probably  have  to  sign  a  lease,  and 
it  would  not  hold  in  law  if  you  did  not  sign  your 
true  name." 

u  Well,  I  see  I  must  conquer  my  old  enemy  en 
tirely.  Why,  Lucy,  pride  is  like  the  hydra  Clar 
ence  used  to  study  about  in  his  classical  books  — 
no  sooner  is  one  head  cut  off  than  another  appears. 
I  will  give  my  own  name." 

The  house  and  shop  exactly  suited  Mrs.  Rose. 
She  called  it  a  "  genteel  establishment ;  "  for,  be 
sides  the  shop,  there  was  a  nice  back  parlor,  a  small 
dining-room,  kitchen  on  the  first  floor,  and  three 
bedrooms  on  the  second  floor.  It  was  hired  for 
one  hundred  dollars  a  year. 

Mrs.  Rose  took  the  reins  in  her  hand  to  drive 
Patchy  home,  quite  astonishing  Lucy  by  the  over 
flow  of  joy,  and  calling  herself  a  happy  woman. 

Biddy,  of  course,  went  with  her  to  the  milliner's 


THE    YOUNG    TRAVELLER.  221 

establishment ;  and  another  woman  was  hired  to 
take  the  place  she  had  recently  filled,  as  assistant 
dairy-woman  at  the  white  cottage. 


CHAPTER   XXXII. 

THE   YOUNG   TRAVELLER. 

WE  now*  pass  over  two  whole  years,  during 
which  the  tenants  of  the  white  cottage  went  on 
prosperously. 

Mrs.  Rose  became  a  "  fashionable"  milliner  ;  but, 
more  than  that,  she  found  a  pleasure  in  being  use 
ful  and  in  doing  good.  Her  pride  and  selfishness 
were  subdued,  in  a  great  measure,  by  higher  and 
nobler  motives  than  had  before  actuated  her  con 
duct.  Clarence  was  a  frequent  visitor,  and  encour 
aged  her  in  all  her  efforts  for  self-improvement  by 
his  own  example. 

The  time  had  come  when  he  could  communicate 
the  proposition  made  to  him  by  Harvey  Amadore 
from  Mr.  Fenton,  two  years  previously. 

Through  Harvey,  Mr.  Fenton  proposed  to  Clar 
ence,  at  that  time,  to  go  to  Europe  to  learn  the  arts 
of  landscape  gardening  and  architecture,  and  he, 
Mr.  Fenton,  would  furnish  the  means,  saying,  like 


222  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

Hercules,  "  I  am  willing  to  help  him  who  helps 
himself." 

Clarence  declined  the  generous  offer,  and  wrote 
to  Mr.  Fenton  his  reasons,  as  follows  :  — 

"  I  am  not  prepared  to  go  abroad  yet.  I  have 
not  firmness  of  character,  and  might  easily  be  led 
astray.  I  would  like  to  prepare  myself  by  classical 
studies  and  acquiring  the  French  language,  and,  if 
possible,  German  and  Italian.  I  think,  with  the 
blessing  of  health,  I  might  accomplish  all  this  in 
two  years.  Besides,  I  would  like  to  learn  from 
books,  to  which  I  can  have  access  in  this  country, 
more  about  landscape  gardening  and  architecture. 
The  latter  art  I  have  studied  already  in  the  books 
you,  sir,  were  so  kind  as  to  give  me,  so  that  I 
have  a  technical  knowledge  of  it.  England  is  the 
place  to  learn  landscape  gardening.  If,  after  two 
years,  you  think  best,  sir,  to  renew  your  very 
generous  offer,  I  will  (D.  V.)  accept  it  most  grate 
fully." 

During  these  two  years,  Clarence  had  not  neg 
lected  his  employment  as  a  gardener ;  but  his  one 
hour  of  study  at  noon,  daily,  and  his  evening  appli 
cation,  especially  during  the  long  winter  evenings, 
had  enabled  him  to  accomplish  what  he  had  pro 
posed  to  do.  Lucy  was  the  companion  of  his  even 
ing  studies,  and  Harvey  loaned  him  the  books  he 
needed,  and,  besides,  gave  him  occasional  assistance 
when  he  met  with  difficulties  in  the  languages. 


THE    YOUNG    TRAVELLER.  223 

And  now,  Clarence  announced  to  the  family  at 
the  white  cottage,  and  to  Mrs.  Rose,  who  was  tak 
ing  tea  there,  that  he  was  about  to  take  a  voyage  to 
Europe. 

"  To  Europe  !  "  they  exclaimed  with  one  voice. 

When  Clarence  explained  the  matter,  free  consent 
was  given. 

Immediate  preparations  were  made,  and  in  a 
week  after  the  announcement  Clarence  started  for 
New  York  with  Pete,  whose  first  visit  was  now  to 
be  made  to  the  city. 

Clarence  had  written  to  Mr.  Fenton  his  present 
wishes,  and  a  cordial,  ready  answer  was  returned, 
inviting  him  and  his  brother  to  pass  a  few  days  in 
New  York  before  he  sailed  for  Europe. 

As  Clarence  and  Pete  were  walking  up  Broad 
way,  Pete  said,  "  I  suppose  I  should  be  taken  for 
a  country  gawky  if  I  look  in  at  these  windows  ;  but 
as  I  don't  know  the  folks  I  don't  care.  Here's 
a  window  full  of  pictures ;  let's  stop  a  minute  to 
look  at  them." 

They  did  so  ;  and  while  wondering  and  admiring 
(for  it  was  one  of  Church's  glorious  paintings), 
some  one  tapped  Clarence  on  the  shoulder,  and  said, 
in  a  contemptuous  tone,  "  Clarenth  Wothe." 

Clarence  turned  suddenly,  and  there  was  his 
school-day  enemy,  Stackpole  Clap. 

"  How  are  you,  Stackpole?  or  Mr.  Clap,  I  should 
say.  This  is  my  brother,  Peter,  whom,  I  think,  you 


224  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

have  seen  before ; "  and  a  meaning  smile  lurked 
about  the  mouth  of  Clarence. 

"  He  never  saw  me  before  unless  it  was  through 
a  hard  shower,"  said  Pete,  with  a  loud  laugh,  which 
attracted  attention  from  the  crowd  of  gazers  at  the 
window. 

"Do  you  mean  to  insult  me,  sir?"  said  Stack- 
pole. 

"  Just  as  you  choose  to  take  it,"  was  the  reply. 

Stackpole's  slight  figure  was  bent  with  cringing ; 
he  could  not  stand  upright  physically,  or  morally. 
He  looked  at  .Pete,  whose  stalwart,  well-knit  per 
son  —  six  feet  and  one  inch  tall  —  was  quite  alarm 
ing,  and  the  determined  air  with  which  Pete  faced 
him  was  not  at  all  agreeable.  So  Stackpole  thought 
it  best  to  crawl  off. 

"  Don't  make  a  disturbance,  Pete,"  whispered 
Clarence,  imploringly ;  "you  see  a  crowd  is  gather 
ing  at  the  prospect  of  a  row,  and  a  policeman  is 
looking  on." 

"  Don't  trouble  yourself.  I  should  as  soon  think 
of  meddling  with  a  toad  as  with  that  sneak,  unless 
I  had  a  bucket  of  water  to  give  him  a  shower- 
bath." 

"  I  wish  you  had,"  said  a  middle-aged  man  who 
was  passing  at  the  moment,  "  for  he  is  the  meanest 
pettifogger  in  the  city,  always  swooping  round  to 
find  or  to  make  a  quarrel." 

"  That  he  is,"  said  the  policeman.    "  If  any  dirty 


THE    YOUNG    TRAVELLER.  225 

law  business  is  to  be  done,  Clap  is  the  scamp  to  do 
it.  He  is  despised  by  every  honorable  man  in  the 
profession." 

"  Come,  Pete,"  said  Clarence,  walking  off;  "  we 
are  attracting  too  much  attention.  We  won't  stop 
at  any  more  shop-windows.  I  thought  you  were 
entirely  cured  of  your  former  fightin ess." 

"  Fightiness  do  you  call  it?  When  I  see  such  a 
crawling,  despicable  fellow  as  that  Clap,  I  long  to 
put  my  foot  upon  him  as  I  would  upon  a  centi- 
ped,"  replied  Pete,  his  lip  curling  with  fierce  con 
tempt. 

"You  had  better  restrain  yourself;  for  in  the  city 
you  may  meet  with  many  such  contemptible  crea 
tures." 

"  I  don't  believe  there  is  but  one  Stackpole  Clap 
in  the  world,  any  more  than  there  is  another  Quilp 
like  Dickens's  Quilp.  They  are  human  monsters." 

"  Well,  don't  look  so  angry,  Pete ;  for  here  we 
are  at  Mr.  Fenton's  door." 

Mr.  Fenton  received  Clarence  and  his  brother 
warmly. 

"  You  have  grown  famously  during  these  last 
years,"  said  he  to  the  former,  "  but  your  brother 
has  the  advantage  in  height." 

"  I  am  five  feet  eleven  and  a  half;  only  wanting 
an  inch  and  a  half  of  Pete's  measure,"  replied 
Clarence,  straightening  himself  up  to  his  full  size. 

"  You've  come  just  in  the  right  time  for  dinner ; 
15 


226  TRUE   MANLINESS. 

I  have  often  wished  for  your  company,  at  my  soli 
tary  table,  Clarence,"  said  Mr.  Fenton,  as  he  led 
the  way  to  the  dining-room. 

Retiring,  as  formerly,  to  the  library  after  dinner, 
Mr.  Fenton  had  much  to  say  to  Clarence,  while 
Pete  surveyed  the  apartment  with  curious  eyes, 
and  then,  at  Mr.  Fenton's  suggestion,  examined 
the  engravings  and  paintings  which  ornamented  it. 

After  having  given  Clarence  all  the  needed  infor 
mation  with  regard  to  the  voyage,  and  what  he  was 
to  learn  by  going  abroad,  Mr.  Fenton  turned  to 
Pete,  who  was  carefully  scrutinizing  a  group  of 
cattle  by  Paul  Potter. 

"  You  seem  attracted  by  that  picture." 

"  It's  a  capital  one  to  my  eye,  only  the  horns  are 
too  loftg  for  my  notion  ;  but,  after  all,  there  isn't  a 
creature  there  as  handsome  as  my  Pet.  I  raised 
her,  sir,  from  a  calf,  and  she's  a  perfect  beauty.  I 
wish  I  had  her  picture  painted  as  well  as  that  is.'* 

"  You  are  a  good  judge ;  that  is  considered  a 
remarkable  painting.  And  how  do  you  like  the  one 
below  it  —  the  sheep  in  a  meadow  ?  " 

"  In  a  meadow !  "  exclaimed  Pete,  laughing ; 
"  we  never  put  sheep  in  a  meadow  ;  and  only  look 
at  the  white-weed  and  wild  flowers  of  all  sorts ! 
Why,  sir,  sheep  eat  out  all  the  weeds ;  the  man 
who  painted  that  picture  didn't  know  the  nature  of 
the  animals,  or  he  wouldn't  have  placed  them  in 
a  meadow." 


THE    YOUNG    TRAVELLER.  227 

"  Well,  the  sheep  themselves  —  what  do  you 
think  of  them  ?  " 

"  They  are  fancy  sheep.  Neither  south-downs, 
merinos,  black-legs,  nor  common  sheep.  The  wool 
is  not  wool ;  it's  raw  cotton.  Their  faces  are  hu 
man  faces  entirely.  Our  sheep  often  look  at  me 
with  knowing  faces ;  but  still  they  are  sheepish. 
I've  seen  men  who  looked  exactly  like  some  of  these 
sheep.  I  saw  one  to-day  who  looked  very  much 
like  that  one,  only  he  had  a  monkey  expression. 
His  name  is  Clap." 

Mr.  Fenton  was  not  displeased  with  Pete's  criti 
cism  ;  moreover,  he  was  pleased  with  Pete's  frank, 
candid  manner,  although  it  bordered  on  bluntness. 
Meanwhile  Clarence  listened  anxiously  to  the  con 
versation.  He  was  warmly  attached  to  his  brother, 
and  wished  him  to  appear  to*  the  best  advantage. 

"  I  suppose,  Peter,  you  intend  to  go  to  Barnum's 
Museum.  You  will  see  there  some  strange  living 
animals,  human  and  otherwise." 

"  The  very  place  I  mean  to  go  to  right  off." 

"  Take  care  of  your  porte-monnaie,"  said  Mr. 
Fenton,  with  a  mischievous  glance  at  Clarence.  "  I 
have  heard*  that  country  boys'  have  had  their  pock 
ets  picked  at  Barnum's." 

"  O,  I  am  not  so  green  as  Clarence  was  at  the 
time  you  refer  to  :  my  pockets  are  not  worth  pick 
ing  ;  for  my  money,  what  there  is  o/  it,  isn't 
there." 


228  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

So  Pete  found  his  way  to  Barnum's,  and  Clarence 
spent  the  evening  with  Mr.  Fenton. 

After  two  days  passed  very  pleasantly  in  the  city, 
Clarence  sailed  in  the  Africa  for  Liverpool,  and  Pete 
returned  home,  having  seen  enough  to  talk  about 
there  for  months  after. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

FIGHTING   FORMAN. 

AFTER  a  voyage  of  eleven  days  Clarence  arrived 
safely  in  Liverpool.  Glad  was  he  to  be  once  more 
on  terra  firma.  Half  the  way  across  the  ocea/i, 
he  would  have  been  almost  willing  to  be  thrown 
overboard.  At  least,  he  thought  he  was  quite  will 
ing  to  change  seasickness  to  drowning  in  the  sea,  to 
be  rid  of  that  horrible  nausea.  But  being  once  safe 
on  shore,  he  "thanked  God  and  took  courage." 
Having  seen  all  the  objects  of  interest  in  Liverpool 
and  its  vicinity,  to  which  his  guide-book  directed 
him,  he  took  the  railway  for  London,  and  was 
whizzed  on  to  that  wonder  of  the  modern  world, 
proud  London. 

As  Clarence  was  walking  through  one  of  the 
narrow  streets  of  London,  he  was  suddenly  joined 


FIGHTING   FORMAJf.  229 

by  a  man  who  had  been  for  some  time  following 
him  with  rapid  steps. 

"  You  walk  fast,"  said  the  stranger,  a  very 
rough,  shabbily  dressed  man,  with  dark  whiskers 
and  mustache,  and  heavy  frowning  eyebrows,  wear 
ing  green  spectacles. 

Clarence  supposed  that  the  intention  of  the  man 
must  be  to  rob  him ;  so  he  quickened  his  walk 
almost  to  a  run.  His  unwelcome  companion  kept 
pace  with  him,  step  by  step. 

"  So  you  don't  like  my  company,"  said  he. 

"  I  do  not." 

"What  are  you  doing  here  in  London?"  he 
roughly  said. 

"  That  is  no  concern  of  yours." 

" But  what  if  I  choose  to  make  it  my  concern?" 

Clarence  now  thought  this  might  be  one  of  the 
police  ;  but  a  second  thought,  as  he  looked  at  the 
dirty,  mean  dress  of  his  companion,  convinced  him 
that  was  a  mistake.  He  now  turned  into  a  more 
frequented  street ;  but  still  the  stranger  walked  on 
with  him,  now  and  then  laughing  in  a  provoking 
manner  as  he  peered  into  Clarence's  face,  which, 
with  rapid  walking  and  indignation,  was  as  red  as 
the  reddest  of  Englishmen. 

"  So,  then,  you  won't  acknowledge  my  acquaint 
ance,  Mr.  Poverty,"  said  the  stranger,  with  a  pro 
voking  sneer. 

"  That  is  not  my  name ;  you  are  mistaken  in  the 
person." 


230  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

"  It  is  your  name,  with  only  the  change  of  a  let 
ter  to  suit  your  circumstances  to  a  T." 

"  You  would  oblige  me  by  leaving  me." 

"  I  couldn't,  possibly,  till  it  suits  my  conven 
ience." 

They  were  now  near  Craven  Street,  where  Clar 
ence  had  taken  his  lodgings. 

"  So  you  do  not  acknowledge  the  name  of  Pov 
erty,"  exclaimed  the  stranger,  with  one  of  his  horse 
laughs. 

"  My  name  is  Paverley  ;  there  is  no  disgrace  in 
a  name,  nor  in  poverty,  but  there  is  in  crime  and 
rascality,  whatever  the  name  or  station  of  a  person 
may  be." 

"  Even  if  that  name  should  be  the  sweet  one, 
the  pretty  one,  Clarenth  Wothe."  Another  startling 
"  haw,  haw,  haw  !  "  from  the  stranger. 

Clarence  looked  at  the  man  eagerly,  without  the 
slightest  conjecture  where  he  had  ever  seen  him 
before. 

He  had  now  arrived  at  his  lodgings,  and  as  he 
rang  at  the  door,  the  fellow  looked  at  the  number, 
and  then,  making  a  low  bow,  said,  — 

"  Mr.  Clarenth  Wothe  Poverty,  I  will  see  you 
again,"  and  walked  rapidly  away,  leaving  Clarence 
much  disturbed,  and  not  a  little  alarmed. 

Craven  Street.  The  very  street  in  which  Frank 
lin  lodged  when  he  was  in  London  a  century  ago  ! 
Perhaps,  for  that  reason,  Clarence  had  taken  his 


FIGHTINQ    FORMAN.  231 

lodgings  there,  for  Franklin's  "  Life,"  written  by 
Sparks,  lie  had  more  than  read ;  he  had  carefully 
studied  it.  Perhaps  he  was  in  the  very  room  the 
philosopher  had  occupied ;  at  all  events  it  was  a 
pleasant  and  a  cheering  thought.  Like  Benjamin 
Franklin,  he  was  making  his  own  way  in  spite  of 
obstacles  ;  and  though  he  might  not  become  as  great 
and  as  distinguished  as  that  statesman  and  philos 
opher,  he  might  become  a  useful  man.  On  the  even 
ing  of  that  same  day,  Clarence  had  letters  to  write, 
and  remained  in  his  room. 

About  nine  o'clock  a  servant  handed  him  a  soiled 
card,  on  which  was  scrawled  "  John  Jimson,  Esq." 

Could  it  be  that  the  stranger  was  his  former 
schoolmate,  Jack  Jimson ! 

It  was  indeed.  Before  he  could  say  whether  he 
would  receive  him  or  not,  Jack  pushed  aside  the 
servant  who  stood  at  the  door  of  Clarence's  room, 
and  rushed  in. 

But  in  what  a  plight !  His  head  was  bound  up 
with  an  old  red  cotton  handkerchief,  and  a  torn 
slouched  hat  hung  partly  over  his  face,  which  was 
disfigured  by  deep  scratches,  from  which  blood  was 
still  oozing. 

Jack  threw  himself  upon  the  floor,  and  rolled  over 
and  over  as  though  in  violent  pain. 

Clarence  looked  compassionately  at  the  poor 
wretch,  but  could  not  speak  to  him. 

After  a  few  moments  Jack   got  up  and   seated 


232  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

himself  in  a  chair  near  the  table  at  which  Clarence 
had  been  writing,  and  took  an  impertinent  survey 
of  the  letter,  which  Clarence  had  nearly  finished. 

"  So,  then,  you  wouldn't  recognize  an  old  friend 
when  you  met  him,"  said  Jack. 

"  I  did  not  know  you  at  all,  you  are  so  changed 
every  way." 

"  Every  way  !  That's  so.  I  am  a  six-footer  in 
my  stocking  feet,  when  I  have  any  stockings  ;  and 
look  at  that  arm.  Isn't  that  a  man's  arm  !  " 

Here  Jack  stripped  up  his  dirty  shirt-sleeve,  — 
for  he  had  no  coat  on,  —  and  showed  a  brawny 
arm,  with  the  big  muscles  as  hard  as  iron. 

"  There's  an  arm  for  you,"  said  the  young  ruf 
fian,  putting  that  boasted  arm  into  a  boxing  atti 
tude.  "  Dolly-boy  can't  show  one  like  it." 

"  You  are  as  fond  of  fighting  as  ever,  I  see," 
said  Clarence. 

"  Why,  it's  my  occupation,"  replied  Jack,  with  a 
coarse  laugh ;  "have  you  a  better  one,  my  pretty 
boy?" 

"  I  am  sorry  you  have  so  poor  a  one  !  " 

"  A  very  good  one  in  England.  You  have  heard 
of  the  gentlemen  of  the  fancy.  Why,  man  !  I'm 
the  best  boxer  in  the  country." 

"  How  came  you  here,  Jack  ?  I  have  never  heard 
a  word  of  you  since  Christmas  day,  nearly  four  years 
since." 

"  O,  I  remember ;  I  saw  you  last  when  I  was 


FIOHT1MG    FORMJJV.  233 

with  Stackpole  on  a  sleigh-ride.  Well,  father  shut 
me  up  for  that  spree.  I  got  out  the  window,  and 
ran  away.  I  shipped  as  a  common  sailor  on  board 
a  vessel  bound  for  Liverpool,  and  I  have  been  living 
in  England  by  hook  and  by  crook  ever  since.  Now 
I'm  short  of  money,  and  want  to  borrow.  Can  you 
lend  me  five  pounds,  that  is,  twenty-five  dollars  in 
Yankee  currency  ?  " 

"  I  cannot.  I  have  been  sent  to  England  for 
a  special  purpose  by  a  friend  of  mine,  and  have  no 
money  of  my  own." 

"  O,  ho !  You  are  Harvey  Amadore's  servant, 
then.  I'm  sorry  for  you.  He  is  as  proud  as  he  is 
mean,  and  as  mean  as  he  is  proud." 

"  He  is  my  best  friend,  and  I  will  not  hear  him 
abused,"  replied  Clarence,  warmly. 

Jack  Jimson  started  from  the  chair,  doubled  up 
his  big  fists,  and  exclaimed,  "  How  are  you  going  to 
help  it  ?  "  and  then  he  brought  one  of  those  big  fists 
in  close  contact  with  the  side  of  Clarence's  head, 
without  striking  him. 

u  Now,  Jack,  listen  to  me,"  said  Clarence,  with 
out  moving  an  inch.  "Do  you  want  to  go  home? 
If  I  should  lend  you  the  money,  and  pay  it  myself 
to  Harvey  Amadore,  would  you  return  to  your 
parents  ?  " 

"  As  a  prodigal  son,  I  suppose  you  mean.  No, 
indeed  !  I  have  no  such  intention  ;  but  I  do  intend 
to  have  the  money ;  so  out  with  it  at  once,  or  I'll 
take  it  sans  ceremonie" 


234  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

Just  as  Jack  uttered  the  last  word,  a  loud  tramp 
ing  was  heard  on  the  stairs,  and  soon  a  violent 
knocking  at  the  door  of  Clarence's  room. 

Jack  crawled  under  the  bed.  Clarence  opened 
the  door.  Two  powerful-looking  watchmen  de 
manded  "  Fighting  Forman,"  who  had  been  traced 
to  that  room. 

Clarence  turned  his  eyes  towards  the  bed  to  see 
if  Jack  was  entirely  concealed. 

The  watchmen  understood  it  as  an  indication 
that  he  was  there,  and  both  the  men  sprang  to  the 
spot,  and,  in  spite  of  Jack's  resistance,  dragged  him 
out,  and  with  a  strong  rope  tied  his  hands  behind 
him.  Clarence,  who  had  not  spoken  a  word,  looked 
on  in  utter  amazement. 

When  Jack  was  fairly  mastered  and  entirely 
under  the  control  of  the  watchmen,  Clarence  asked 
what  the  man  (Jack)  had  been  doing,  and  why 
they  handled  him  so  roughly. 

"  It's  very  likely  you  know.  You  must  be  one 
of  his  gang." 

Jack's  laugh  at  this  was  perfectly  demoniac. 

"  We  have  no  order  to  arrest  you,"  continued  the 
man,  "  but  we  shall  keep  a  close  eye  upon  you." 

"  I  am  a  citizen  of  the  United  States,  and  only 
arrived  in  London  day  before  yesterday.  Here  is 
my  passport,  my  letter  of  credit  on  the  house  of 
Peabody  &  Co.,  and  my  letter  of  introduction  to  our 
ambassador." 


"  The  watchmon  dragged  him  out  and  tierl  his  hands  behind  him.' 

Pag-e  M-l. 


FIGHTING   FORMJHf.  235 

Clarence  drew  the  letters  from  his  pocket  as  he 
spoke,  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  landlord  of  the 
house  testified  that  his  lodger  came  there  recom 
mended  by  a  gentleman  in  the  city. 

"  Then  how  came  Fighting  Forman  to  take  ref 
uge  here  after  knocking  down  two  of  the  watch 
men  ?  "  inquired  the  first  speaker. 

"  He  came  for  money.  He  happened  to  have 
known  me  in  the  United  States.  He  is  a  citizen 
of  the  Union." 

"  Very  likely.  Come  along,  villain.  The  gal 
lows  is  too  good  for  you.  You  meant  to  have 
committed  robbery,  too." 

Jack,  during  all  this  time,  had  maintained  a 
sullen  silence.  Now  he  said,  with  an  oath,  "  I  am 
not  a  Yankee." 

As  they  led  him  off,  he  turned  to  Clarence  with 
a  hideous  grin,  and,  shaking  his  fist  in  the  face  of 
Clarence,  said,  — 

"  If  I  had  only  had  two  minutes  more,  I  should 
have  had  the  money  and  been  off  safely.  Another 
chance  will  offer,  and  you  shan't  crow  over  me 
then,  you  mean,  low-spirited  Yankee." 

44 1  pity  you  ;  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  I  pity 
you,"  said  Clarence,  with  deep  feeling.  t 

"  I  despise  your  pity !  "  exclaimed  Jack,  with  a 
terrible  oath,  as  the  watchmen  dragged  the  miser 
able  wretch  down  stairs  to  place  him  in  the  watch- 
house  for  the  night,  and  then  to  bring  him  before 
the  police  court  in  the  morning. 


236  TRUE   MANLINESS. 

"So,  then,"  thought  Clarence,  "this  is  what 
Bully  Jimson  has  come  to  through  his  love  of 
fighting  and  his  propensity  to  all  kinds  of  wicked 
ness.  What  a  lesson !  God  be  thanked  that  I 
have  been  kept  from  such  horrible  crimes.  To 
disclaim  his  country,  too  !  A  lying  traitor  !  Well, 
his  country  would  be  disgraced  if  he  acknowledged 
himself  a  citizen.  I  will  leave  him  to  his  fate. 
Perhaps  it  will  be  imprisonment  for  life,  or  even 
hanging." 

Indeed,  so  it  proved ;  for  one  of  the  watchmen 
whom  Jack  knocked  down  was  killed  by  the  blow, 
and  Bully  Jimson's  life  ended  on  the  gallows. 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

NEWS   FROM  HOME. 

AFTER  having  visited  many  of  the  beautiful 
country-seats  of  the  nobility  and  gentry  of  England, 
Clarence  went  to  Scotland,  and  there  remained  for 
a  few  months,  at  Sandy's  earnest  entreaty,  to  learn 
something  of  practical  gardening.  From  thence  he 
went  to  the  Continent,  and  saw  France  and  Italy 
more  thoroughly  than  most  travellers.  He  then  re 
turned  to  London,  and  placed  himself  in  the  studio 
of  an  architect  and  landscape  gardener. 


NEWS    FROM    HOME.  237 

Not  many  months  after  his  return  to  England,  he 
received  the  following  letter  from  Harvey  Ama- 
dore :  — 

THE  LINDENS. 

MY  DEAR  CLARENCE  :  Before  this  meets  your 
eye,  you  must  have  learned  from  the  newspapers, 
that  our  beloved  country  is  racked  to  its  very  foun 
dation.  Ambitious  politicians  at  the  south  are 
leading  the  slave-holding  people  on  to  their  ruin. 

You  must  have  heard  of  the  attack  upon  Fort 
Sumter  in  South  Carolina  —  South  Carolina,  the 
leader  in  rebellion. 

I  will  not  recapitulate  what  has  already  become 
history.  All  Europe  will  be  looking  on,  with  eager 
expectation,  to  the  result  of  this  fearful  contest. 
Every  man  who  loves  his  country  ought  to  be  at 
home  at  this  eventful  period. 

You  will  be  surprised  to  learn  that  Harvey  Ama- 
dore  is  now  Captain  Amadore.  I  am  raising  a 
volunteer  company,  and,  at  my  own  expense,  arm 
ing  and  equipping  the  soldiers.  Your  brother  Pe 
ter  is  my  color-sergeant,  and  a  noble-looking  fellow 
is  he,  as  he  proudly  lifts  the  glorious  stars  and 
stripes.  I  think,  however,  that  as  the  company  will 
choose  some  of  their  officers,  he  may  go  as  second 
lieutenant. 

I  am  sorry  to  call  you  away  from  your  artistic 
pursuits  ;  but  everything  else  must  give  way  at  this 


238  TRUE   MANLINESS. 

time  for  the  good  of  our  country.  Mr.  Fenton  re 
quested  me  to  write  to  you,  and  say  that  you  have 
his  consent  to  return.  Indeed,  he  says  it  is  a  dis 
grace  for  a  citizen  of  the  United  States  to  remain 
abroad  when  he  may  be  of  service  at  home. 

Whenever  my  company  leaves  for  the  army,  you, 
my  dear  Clarence,  will  have  to  look  after  my  affairs 
at  Linden  Hill,  and  to  take  charge  of  your  mother 
and  sister. 

Mrs.  Rose,  too,  is  anxious  for  your  return.  She 
is  wonderfully  patriotic,  and  wears  the  red,  white, 
and  blue,  in  all  possible  ways  in  which  these  colors 
can  appear  in  woman's  attire. 

My  time  is  much  occupied,  for  we  drill  twice  a 
day.  Besides  studying  military  tactics  myself,  I 
employ  an  able  drill-master,  at  present ;  and  I  think, 
whenever  we  join  a  regiment,  we  shall  not  be  a 
discreditable  addition. 

It  is  worth  living  for  to  see  a  people,  as  with  one 
heart  and  soul,  uniting  enthusiastically  to  put  down 
rebellion.  With  God's  aid  it  will  be  done. 

Excuse  this  hasty,  disconnected  scrawl.  I  trust 
we  shall  soon  meet,  and  discuss  these  weighty  mat 
ters  more  at  leisure. 

I  suppose  you  will  take  the  very  next  steamer 
that  leaves,  after  the  reception  of  this  letter. 
Truly  yours, 

HARVEY  AMADORE. 


CAPTAIN    AMADORE.  239 

Clarence  immediately  prepared  to  leave  England 
with  a  saddened  heart,  but  full  of  ardor  and  love 
for  his  native  land.  His  residence  and  travels  in 
foreign  countries  had  ma$e  him  only  the  more  sen 
sible  of  the  blessings  of  a  free  government.  And 
that  a  maddened,  Satan-led  portion  of  that  country, 
should  attempt  to  break  up  and  destroy  such  a  gov 
ernment,  seemed  to  him  as  incredible  as  if  three  or 
four  of  the  planets  should  attempt  to  destroy  the 
solar  tystem,  or  to  separate  themselves  from  it. 

Only  three  days  after  the  reception  of  the  letter 
from  Captain  Amadore,  Clarence  was  taking  his 
last  look  of  England  from  the  deck  of  the  steamer. 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 

CAPTAIN   AMADORE. 

THE  very  day  on  which  Clarence  arrived  home 
was  the  one  on  which  the  company  of  Captain  Am 
adore,  numbering  one  hundred  and  one,  was  about 

to  leave  to  join  the Regiment  of  New  York 

Volunteers.  It  was  just  before  sunset  on  the  4th 
of  July.  Already,  with  knapsacks  on  their  backs, 
their  canteens  filled,  and  their  arms  brightly  gleam 
ing,  they  were  assembled  on  the  green  of  Hodgton. 
A  crowd  of  weeping  women  and  children  were  look- 


240  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

ing  on.  For  half  an  hour  the  soldiers  were  dis 
missed  to  take  a  last  leave  of  these  sorrowing,  yet 
rejoicing  friends.  Rejoicing,  for  such  were  the  zeal 
and  patriotism  of  the  women,  that  they  gave  up  to 
their  country  what  was  most  precious  to  them,  al 
though  the  sacrifice  was  a  heart-rending  one. 

Clarence  soon  found  his  mother  and  Lucy  among 
the  crowd,  and  was  welcomed  by  them  with  a  burst 
of  tears  — joy  and  thankfulness  mingling  with  their 
sorrow,  just  as  the  sun's  rays  at  that  moment  min 
gled  with  a  sudden  shower,  and  a  beautiful  rainbow 
spanned  the  eastern  sky. 

Lucy  pointed  to  the  auspicious  banner  in  the 
heavens,  and  whispered,  "  Hope." 

Pete,  in  his  regimentals,  with  the  lieutenant's 
strap  on  his  shoulder,  stepped  up  proudly  to  Clar 
ence,  and  gave  him  such  a  grip  of  the  hand  as 
almost  to  cause  a  shriek. 

"  Why,  old  fellow,  you  are  magnificent,"  said 
Clarence.  "I  thought  you  were  color-sergeant?" 

"  I  should  have  liked  to  have  carried  the  stars 
and  stripes  to  the  war,  but  the  captain  wanted  me 
for  his  second  lieutenant,  and  I  obey  captain's 
orders,  whatever  they  may  be." 

Evidently  the  tall  soldier  was  choking  down  his 
feelings,  while  he  spoke  to  Clarence  ;  but  when  he 
turned  to  his  mother  and  Lucy,  the  manly  lieuten 
ant  could  no  longer  control  them.  Big  tears,  which 
he  indignantly  shook  off,  betrayed  what  he  consid 
ered  unmanly  weakness. 


CAPTAIN   AMADORE.  241 

Harvey  came  to  greet  Clarence,  and  took  him 
aside  to  give  him  some  directions  with  regard  to 
the  management  at  Linden  Hill,  during  the  cap 
tain's  absence. 

"  You  know,"  said  he,  "  that  noor  Sandy  is  at 
rest." 

"At  rest!" 

"  Gone  to  his  long  home.  Better  for  him,  no 
doubt,  than  to  have  been  left  in  his  old  age  to  mourn 
over  the  condition  of  his  adopted  country.  You 
will  now  have  the  sole  charge  of  the  garden  and 
grounds,  as  master.  Employ  as  many  workmen  as 
you  please.  The  head  work  is  all  that  will  be  re 
quired  of  you." 

After  a  few  parting  words  with  Mrs.  Paverley 
and  Lucy,  Harvey  put  himself  at  the  head  of  his 
company.  The  band  struck  up  Yankee  Doodle,  as 
if  to  drown  sorrow  and  excite  patriotic  enthusiasm 
by  that  lively  air ;  and  the  Hodgton  company 
marched  away,  followed  by  the  earnest  prayers  of 
mothers,  wives,  sisters,  and  sweethearts. 

"  Ah,  few  shall  meet,  where  many  part"  for  the 
battle-field  will  be  their  death-bed,  and  their  requiem 
the  cannon's  roar. 

When  thQ  Paverley  family  returned  home  to  the 
white  cottage,  they  could  give  the  cordial  welcome 
to  Clarence,  which  their  absorbed  interest  in  the 
company  had  prevented.  Mrs.  Rose  was  with 
them ;  a  long  ribbon  of  red,  white,  and  blue  was 
16 


242  TRUE   MAJVLIMESS. 

worn  on  one  arm,  and. her  bonnet  was  trimmed  with 
the  same  colors.  These  outward  demonstrations  of 
patriotism  were  true  to  the  fervent  sentiment  within 
the  bosom  of  Mrs.  Rose.  Night  and  day  she  had 
worked  for  the  soldiers,  scraping  lint,  rolling  ban 
dages,  and  making  "  Havelocks." 

Mrs.  Rose  had  been  prosperous  in  her  business, 
and  was  now  aided  in  her  work  by  two  apprentices. 
Her  joy  at  the  return  of  Clarence  was  almost  as 
great  as  if  he  had  indeed  been  her  own  son. 

"  Who  would  have  thought  that  you  were  to  be 
come  an  artist?"  said  she,  regarding  Clarence  with 
intense  admiration.  "  A  landscape  gardener  and 
architect !  That  sounds  well."  And  then  she 
whispered  to  Lucy,  "  Isn't  he  splendid  !  " 

Though  very  differently  expressed,  even  deeper 
was  the  joy  of  Mrs.  Paverley  and  Lucy. 

During  the  absence  of  Clarence,  his  sister  had 
kept  on  with  her  studies  and  a  course  of  reading 
on  the  countries  he  was  visiting,  aided  by  books 
from  Captain  Amadore's  library,  till  she  was  almost 
as  familiar  with  the  cathedrals  of  England,  and  the 
ancient  remains  of  art  in  Italy,  as  Clarence  him 
self.  It  became,  in  time,  a  source  of  intense  pleas 
ure  to  the  brother  and  sister  to  "compare  notes" 
on  these  subjects. 

The  dreadful  storm  of  war  swept  over  the  land 
like  a  tornado,  felling  to  the  earth  alike  the  fresh, 
young  hopes  of  home  and  country,  and  the  stout, 
stern  men  of  riper  years. 


CAPTAIN  AM  AD  ORE.  243 

Scarcely  ten  months  elapsed  before  Harvey  was 
desperately  wounded  while  gallantly  leading  on  a 
part  of  the  regiment  to  which  he  was  attached. 
Pete  had  become  first  lieutenant  of  the  company. 
No  braver  soldier  was  in  that  regiment  than  Peter 
Paverley ;  and  now  he  was  captain  of  the  company 
which  had  been  raised  by  Harvey.  In  the  battle 
in  which  Harvey  lost  an  arm  and  was  wounded  in 
the  knee,  his  life  was  saved  by  Peter ;  the  brave 
lieutenant  struck  down  with  his  sword  a  rebel,  who 
stooped  over  the  wounded  captain  to  despatch  him 
with  a  bowie-knife. 

Peter  then,  with  the  aid  of  a  soldier,  gently  placed 
Harvey  on  a  stretcher,  and  he  was  carried  to  the 
rear.  When  the  battle  had  been  fought  and  won  by 
our  gallant  army,  Harvey  was  carried  to  a  hospital, 
where  his  right  arm  was  amputated,  and  a  bullet 
extracted  from  his  knee.  There,  in  the  hospital,  he 
remained  for  three  months,  vibrating  between  life 
and  death.  Nothing  but  his  calm,  resigned  state  of 
mind,  and  the  strict  temperance  of  his  former  life, 
which  had  kept  his  blood  pure,  saved  him  (humanly 
speaking),  from  the  grasp  of  death.  One  of  the 
devoted  women  who  attended  most  lovingly  to  the 
wounded  in  that  hospital,  remarked,  "  that  of  all 
the  patients  she  had  seen,  Captain  Amadore  was  the 
most  cheerful."  And  when  she  lamented  that  he 
should  have  lost  an  arm,  his  reply  was,  "  I  couldn't 
have  lost  it  in  a  better  cause  ;  and  I  trust  God  has 


244  TRUE   MANLINESS. 

saved  my  life  that  I  may  witness  the  final  success 
of  this  struggle,  and  the  restoration  of  my  country 
to  unity  and  peace." 

After  an  absence  of  more  than  a  year  from  home, 
Harvey  returned  to  the  Lindens. 

The  house  had  been  closed,  and  Aunty  Dotty  was 
living  with  another  relative  many  miles  distant.  It 
was  a  desolate  abode  for  one  still  feeble  from  long 
and  dangerous  illness.  The  servant  who  had  at 
tended  Captain  Amadore  ever  since  he  left  home 
alone  was  with  him  now.  As  soon  as  Clarence 
heard  of  Harvey's  arrival,  he  hastened  to  him  with 
intense  interest  and  sympathy.  Harvey  was  reclin 
ing,  pale  and  languid,  on  a  sofa  in  the  library.  At 
the  sight  of  Clarence  he  raised  himself,  and  ex 
tended  his  left  hand.  A  bright  smile  illumined  his 
pale  countenance,  as  he  gave  Clarence  a  cordial 
greeting. 

Alas  !  Clarence  could  only  see  that  loose,  empty 
coat-sleeve,  and  the  thin,  wasted  form  which  had 
gone  forth  so  full  of  manly  strength  and  beauty. 
Tears  filled  his  eyes,  and  a  silent  grasp  of  the 
hand,  the  only  hand,  testified  his  grief. 

"  Cheer  up,  man  ;  don't  look  so  doleful.  I  shall 
soon  get  back  my  health  in  this  sweet  country  air. 
How  lovely  the  old  place  looks  !  As  I  drove  up  the 
avenue,  I  was  struck  with  the  great  improvement 
you  have  made  in  it  during  my  absence." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Clarence,  with  a  husky  voice. 


CAPTAIN  JMJDORE.  245 

"  And  how  are  Mrs.  Paverley,  and  Miss  Lucy, 
and  Mrs.  Rose,  too.  Are  they  all  as  patriotic  as 
ever?" 

"  Even  more  so." 

"  Well,  they  will  have  one  soldier  at  home  to 
care  for,  who  will  not,  however,  prevent  them  from 
more  extended  benevolence.  Now,  Clarence,  I 
have  been  thinking  there  is  no  nurse  who  would 
suit  me  as  well  as  your  good  mother.  Can  you 
persuade  her  to  leave  the  white  cottage  and  come  to 
the  Lindens,  with  Miss  Lucy  and  yourself,  till  I  am 
stronger  ?  " 

"  If  you  wish  it,  certainly." 

"  Well,  then,  please  make  your  arrangements  as 
speedily  as  possible.  Take  your  choice  of  the 
rooms  in  this  dreary  house,  and  drive  out  the  rats, 
who  have  taken  full  possession." 

It  was  with  reluctance  that  the  Paverley  family 
left  the  white  cottage,  where  they  had  passed  so 
many  quiet,  pleasant  years  in  contented  labor. 

Mrs.  Rose  said  she  could  spare  Biddy  to  take 
charge  of  the  dairy  and  poultry-yard  till  the  family 
returned  to  the  cottage ;  and  so  they  flitted  to  the 
Lindens  without  removing  an  article,  excepting 
wearing  apparel. 

Good  Mrs.  Paverley !  Sad,  indeed,  it  was  to  her 
as  she  took  the  place  beside  the  sofa  of  Captain 
Amadore,  to  feed  him  almost  as  she  would  a  child ; 
for  he  had  not  yet  acquired  facility  in  the  use  of  his 


246  TRUE  MANLINESS. 

left  hand.  The  wound  in  his  knee  had  injured  the 
joint,  so  that  he  was  quite  lame.  And  yet  withal 
he  was  so  cheerful !  When  he  saw  the  tears  stream 
ing  over  Mrs.  Paverley's  cheek,  he  said,  — 

"  Don't  weep  for  me,  Mrs.  Paverley.  It  is  God's 
will.  Besides,  there  are  many  poor  fellows  in  a 
much  worse  condition  than  I  am.  I  hope  the  coun 
try  will  take  care  of  those  who  haven't  a  home  of 
their  own." 

The  mother's  thoughts  now  went  forth  to  her  own 
absent  son,  and  her  hand  so  trembled  that  she  could 
scarcely  carry  the  spoon,  with  which  she  was  giving 
soup  to  her  patient,  to  his  mouth. 

Clarence  was  so  much  occupied  with  new  cares 
and  duties,  in  addition  to  those  which  had  previously 
devolved  upon  him,  that  he  had  very  little  time  to 
spare  to  Harvey. 

Day  by  day  the  invalid  was  gaining  strength. 
After  he  had  been  at  home  nearly  a  fortnight,  he 
said  to  Clarence,  — 

"  Do  you  know  my  eyes  are  so  weak  that  I  can 
not  read  without  pain  ?  " 

"  Is  it  possible  !     Cannot  Moses  read  to  you?  " 

Moses  was  the  captain's  servant. 

Harvey  laughed  as  he  replied,  "  His  reading  is 
h  la  Partington.  The  other  day,  in  attempting  to 
give  me  the  news  from  a  paper,  he  read,  '  variable 
institution  without  ammunition.'  Now,  what  do 
you  suppose  it  really  was  ?  " 


CAP  TAIN  AMADORE.  247 

"  I  can't  conjecture." 

"  Valuable  informatioa  without  remuneration." 

"  Lucy  is  a  good  reader  ;  she  might  assist  you." 

"  If  she  would  be  so  obliging  it  would  be  a  great 
favor.  I  am  anxious  for  my  daily  paper,  and  when 
it  comes  it  is  tantalizing,  for  I  cannot  read  a  column 
without  pain." 

Now  Lucy  had  not  seen  the  captain  since  his 
return  ;  and  as  there  were  servants  in  the  house  to 
attend  to  the  work  of  the  family,  she  had  been 
comparatively  idle. 

When  Clarence  proposed  that  she  should  become 
Harvey's  reader,  she  expressed  diffidence  as  to  her 
ability ;  but  Clarence  reassured  her,  and  she,  at 
last,  consented  to  go  to  the  library,  at  eleven  o'clock 
daily,  to  read  the  paper. 

Clarence  had  not  done  justice  to  Lucy  in  saying 
she  was  "a  good  reader:  "  she  was  more.  Her 
voice  was  one  of  uncommon  sweetness  and  compass. 
Its  modulations  and  cadences  were  charming  ;  there 
was  always  in  it  an  under-current  of  pathos.  More 
over,  she  was  an  appreciative  reader,  and  gave 
emphasis  and  expression  to  every  sentence.  From 
reading  the  newspaper,  Lucy  was  persuaded  to  read 
favorite  books  from  the  library,  while  Mrs.  Paverley 
sat  by  with  her  knitting — her  favorite  employment, 
now  devoted  to  soldiers'  stockings. 

Thus  passed  many  pleasant  hours.  Harvey  was 
able,  after  some  weeks,  to  hobble  about  with  the  aid 


248  TRUE  MANLINESS. 

of  a  cane,  and  to  use  bis  left  hand  quite  felicitously. 
He  learned  rapidly  to  write  with  it  —  a  back  hand, 
however  ;  he  could  not  write  otherwise. 

A  little  pony  carriage  was  ordered  from  the  city, 
and  in  this  he  could  drive  about  the  grounds  with 
Clarence. 

It  was  the  rose  season,  leafy  June,  when  he  made 
his  first  excursion,  and  the  beauty  of  the  garden  was 
so  intensely  exciting,  that,  for  the  first  time  since  his 
return,  his  eyes  moistened  with  tears. 

"  Clarence,"  said  he,  "  how  wonderful  it  is  that 
God  has  given  man  the  ability  to  improve  the 
Creator's  own  works.  Here  must  be  forty  or  fifty 
varieties  of  roses,  all  from  the  original  little  five- 
leaved  flower." 

"  Seventy  varieties,"  replied  Clarence,  proudly, 
"  and  a  dozen  more  if  my  experiments  prove  suc 
cessful.  And  now  you  must  look  at  your  strawber 
ries.  There  are  twenty  varieties  here." 

A  hedge  of  daily  roses  surrounded  the  strawber 
ry-beds,  which  occupied  a  large  space. 

"  Sweets  to  the  sweet,"  said  Harvey. 

Clarence  placed  the  reins  in  Harvey's  hand,  and 
stepped  out  of  the  low  pony  carriage  to  gather  a 
bunch  of  the  "  triomphe  de  Gand  "  for  Harvey,  the 
first  strawberries  that  had  ripened.  They  then 
drove  about  the  grounds,  and  over  and  over  again 
Harvey  expressed  his  delight  at  the  beautiful  im 
provements  Clarence  had  planned  and  executed. 


CAPTAIW  AMADORE.  249 

The  next  morning  after  the  drive  about  the 
grounds,  as  Lucy  was  reading  the  morning  paper, 
she  suddenly  stopped.  The  name  of  Captain  Paver- 
ley  attracted  her  attention.  She  read  the  passage  to 
herself. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  inquired  Harvey,  anxiously. 

"  O,  sir,  my  brother  has  been  promoted  for  bra 
very  in  the  last  battle  under  General  Sheridan.  He 
is  now  Major  Paverley." 

Harvey  took  the  paper  from  Lucy,  and  read  the 
passage. 

"In  an  extreme  emergency,  Captain  Paverley 
volunteered  to  pass  the  river  with  his  company  for 
a  reconnoissance.  It  was  an  exceedingly  dangerous 
and  difficult  attempt ;  but  it  proved  entirely  success 
ful,  with  the  loss  of  only  two  men  killed  and  five 
wounded.  Captain  Paverley,  for  his  remarkable 
coolness  and  bravery,  was  promoted.  He  now 
ranks  as  major.  He  is  one  of  the  bravest  and  best 
officers  in  the Regiment  of  New  York  Volun 
teers." 

"  True,  very  true ;  your  brother  well  deserves 
promotion.  You  know,  Lucy,  I  owe  my  life  to 
him,  under  Providence.  Pete  is  a  noble  fellow. 
The  boys  in  the  company  were  very  proud  of  him. 
God  grant  he  may  be  spared  for  his  country's  sake." 

A  slight  shade  of  sadness  passed  over  Harvey's 
usually  serene,  cheerful  countenance,  and  he  added, 
*'  I  try  to  be  contented  to  be  laid  aside  like  a  use- 


250  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

less  old  hulk;  but  when  I  hear  of  these  daring 
deeds  my  heart  throbs  and  my  brain  whirls.  I 
long  for  the  field." 

"  Is  it  possible  !  "  exclaimed  Lucy.  "  We  are  all 
so  thankful  to  have  you  here,  gradually  regaining 
your  health." 

Harvey  pointed  to  his  right  shoulder  and  his  lame 
knee,  and  sighed. 

With  a  trembling  voice  Lucy  renewed  the  reading. 

Two  months  had  passed,  and  Captain  Amadore 
had  not  entirely  regained  his  health  and  strength  ; 
but  he  no  longer  needed  careful  nursing. 

Mrs.  Paverley  proposed  to  return  to  the  white 
cottage. 

At  this  proposal  Harvey  became  thoughtful  and 
sad. 

"  I  shall  be  very  lonely  without  you  and  Clar 
ence,  and,"  —  here  Harvey  hesitated,  and  after  a 
moment's  pause  added,  "  and  my  excellent  reader. 
Why  need  you  leave  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  is  time  for  me  to  attend  to  the  dairy. 
Biddy  and  her  helper  have  done  pretty  well,  but  I 
think,  sir,  it  would  be  more  for  your  interest  if  I 
attended  to  the  business." 

"  It  would  be  much  more  for  my  interest  to  have 
you  remain  here.  I  will  speak  to  Clarence  about  it." 

So,  the  first  opportunity  that  occurred,  Harvey 
opened  the  subject,  or,  rather  in  a  roundabout  way, 
came  to  it. 


AMADORE.  251 

"Have  you  thought,  Clarence,  how  and  where 
you  are  to  be  established  in  your  profession  as 
architect  and  landscape  gardener?  " 

"•  I  have  not  formed  any  definite  plan." 

"  You  have  shown  your  skill  here,  and  I  prize 
you  highly  ;  but  you  ought  to  be  setting  up  for 
yourself.  For  my  own  pleasure  I  would  retain 
you  near  me ;  but  you  have  talent  and  taste  that 
will  lead  you  to  eminence  and  usefulness.  I  shall 
be  most  happy  to  aid  you  in  any  possible  way  in 
setting  up  for  yourself." 

44  Thank  you,  captain.  Through  your  generous 
kindness,  and  Mr.  Fenton's,  I  am  ready  to  put  out 
my  shingle,  as  the  saying  is,  in  some  city.  I  think 
I  should  like  Boston.  There  is  more  taste  for 
landscape  gardening  there,  I  am  told,  than  in  any 
other  part  of  our  country,  and  a  need  of  educated 
architects.  Besides,  I  like  the  style  of  folks  there. 
They  are  liberal,  intellectual,  and  refined.  But  I 
should  be  sorry  to  leave  you  ;  and  now,  in  Pete's 
absence,  I  don't  like  to  leave  my  mother  and 
sister." 

"  I  will  be  a  son  to  your  mother  if  she  will  ac 
cept  me  as  such,"  —  the  color  mounted  to  the  fore 
head  of  Harvey  as  he  added,  u  and  more  than  a 
brother  to  your  sister." 

Clarence  was  taken  by  surprise,  and  looked  wist 
fully  at  Harvey  for  explanation. 

With  some  embarrassment,  he  continued,  — 


252  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

"  I  feel  as  though  it  would  be  cruel  to  ask  any 
woman  to  be  my  '  other  half,'  when  I  could  add 
only  a  quarter  myself;  so  you  see  it  would  be  ask 
ing  three  quarters  to  my  fraction  in  order  to  make 
4  one,'  scripturally." 

This  was  said  with  an  effort  at  pleasantry,  but 
the  deep  under-current  of  sadness  betrayed  itself. 

Clarence  was  entirely  at  a  loss  what  reply  to 
make.  Harvey  continued,  "  I  have  never  seen 
Lucy's  equal.  Do  you  think  it  would  be  unjust  and 
unkind  to  your  sister  to  ask  her  to  aid  me  in  mak 
ing  my  shattered  existence  comfortable,  and  in 
helping  me  to  be  of  some  use  in  the  world  ?  " 

"  Neither  unjust  nor  unkind ;  but  I  have  sup 
posed  that  other  motives  ought  to  actuate  a  man  in 
such  a  case.  I  am  not  romantic,  but  I  believe  in 
the  sentiment  that  binds  two  into  one." 

Harvey  laughed  a  bitter  laugh ;  it  was  the  only 
tincture  of  bitterness  that  had  poisoned  his  heart 
since  his  misfortune. 

"  Then  you  think  I  am  not  capable  now  of  inspir 
ing  that  sentiment." 

"  Never  were  you  more  worthy.  Never  were 
you  so  truly  and  nobly  manly  as  now,"  replied 
Clarence,  warmly  and  earnestly ;  then,  after  a 
moment's  pause,  he  added,  "Harvey,  speak  to 
Lucy  yourself." 

"  I  have  never  been  alone  with  her  a- moment  in 
my  life,  and,  I  assure  you,  had  never  entertained 


WHO   WOULD  HAVE.   THOU  OUT  IT!  253 

any  other  sentiment  than  that  of  friendship  till  since 
my  return  home.  Her  devotion  as  a  daughter  and 
a  sister  won  my  esteem.  On  a  nearer  acquaintance, 
I  find  in  her  all  those  attributes  calculated  to  render 
a  quiet,  retired  country-life  agreeable  and  useful. 
My  only  fear  is,  that  she  is  so  compassionate  and  so 
disinterested,  that  she  will  merely  accept  my  propo 
sals  from  pity.  That  I  could  not  endure  ;  and  yet," 
he  added  with  a  sigh,  "  what  other  motive  could 
induce  her  to  take  charge  of  such  a  helpless  being 
as  I  am  ?  " 

"  I  can  only  repeat  what  I  have  said.  Speak  to 
Lucy  yourself.  You  have  my  best  wishes."  So 
saying  Clarence  left  Harvey,  and  requested  Lucy  to 
step  into  the  library. 


CHAPTEE    XXXVI. 

WHO    WOULD   HAVE  THOUGHT   IT! 

Letter  from  Pete  :  — 

MOTHER,  DEAR  MOTHER  :  "We  are  on  the  eve  of 
a  battle.  I  think  it  will  be  a  tremendous  one.  Per 
haps  I  shall  share  the  fate  of  many  a  brave  fellow, 
and  be  left  on  the  battle-field. 


254  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

Mother,  at  such  a  time  as  this,  a  man  examines 
himself,  to  know  what  he  has  done  and  what  he  has 
left  undone. 

I  have  not  been  to  you  all  that  I  ought  to  have 
been.  Many  times  I  have  been  wilful  and  unduti- 
ful.  I  now  ask  your  forgiveness.  If  I  fall  in 
battle,  remember  me  kindly.  It  nerves  me  to  think 
you  will  be  praying  for  me.  Of  all  the  blessings 
God  has  given  me,  I  thank  him  most  heartily,  at 
this  moment,  for  having  given  me  a  good,  pious 
mother  and  sister. 

Give  my  best  love  to  Lucy  and  Captain  Ama- 
dore.  I  am  sorry  to  learn  that  he  has  not  re 
covered  the  use  of  that  wounded  leg,  and  that  he  is 
still  very  lame.  What  a  mercy  it  is  that  he  has 
such  a  helpmeet  and  companion  as  our  dear,  modest, 
sweet  Lucy  !  God  bless  them  both. 

Clarence,  you  tell  me,  is  doing  well  in  Boston. 
Love  to  him.  He  has  been  a  true,  kind  brother  to 
me  ;  more  kind  than  I  have  been  to  him.  O,  how 
I  love  you  all ! 

In  haste,  your  devoted  son, 

PETE. 

P.  S.  Already  I  hear  the  distant  roar  of  an  at 
tack  upon  one  of  our  columns.  God  be  with  us, 
and  defend  the  right  cause,  the  cause  of  truth  and 
justice ! 

Not  many  months  after  the  receipt  of  Pete's  let- 


WHO     WOULD    HAVE.     THOUGHT    IT!  255 

ter,  the  news  reached  the  white  cottage  of  the  fall 
of  Richmond  and  the  surrender  of  Lee's  army. 
Alas  «for  the  awful  calamity  that  followed !  —  a 
calamity,  the  sorrow  for  which  will  never  pass  from 
the  hearts  of  all  who  loved  and  honored  our  truly 
great  and  excellent  President !  Abra"ham  Lincoln's 
example  remains  a  rich  bequest  to  every  boy  who 
would  attain  to  "  true  manliness." 

Pete  came  home  Colonel  Paverley. 

"  Who  would  have  thought  it !  "  exclaimed  the 
delighted  mother.  "  Our  Pete  a  colonel !  " 

Mrs.  Rose  was  soon  at  the  white  cottage  to  con 
gratulate  the  colonel  on  having  so  well  served  his 
country. 

"  And  what  are  you  going  to  do  with  yourself 
now?  "  she  asked.  "  I  suppose  you  have  got  so  at 
tached  to  the  army,  you  will  not  be  willing  to  throw 
aside  your  regimentals." 

"  Indeed,  I  shall  be  willing  to  do  so  till  my 
country  calls  me  to  her  aid  again,"  he  replied ; 
"  but,"  he  added,  fervently,  "  may  that  time  be  far 
distant ;  or,  rather,  may  we  never  have  cause  to 
defend  ourselves  again  from  a  foe,  domestic  or  for 
eign,  as  long  as  this  great  republic  endures.  I  am 
going  back  to  farming,  and  expect  my  good  mother 
to  live  with  me." 

"  Indeed  !  Like  Cincinnatus  and  Washington," 
said  Mrs.  Rose,  "  you  go  back  to  the  plough." 

The  colonel  smiled,  as  he  said,  "  You  place  great 


256  TRUE    MANLINESS. 

examples  before  me.  I  have  just  come  from  the 
Lindens.  Captain  Amadore  has  leased  to  me  the 
outlying  farm  of  Hardscrabble.  There  I  expect  to 
employ  my  skill  in  farming ;  to  bring  a  rough,  un 
productive  soil  into  a  state  of  high  cultivation.  My 
highest  ambition  is  to  be  a  firsUrate  farmer." 

"  Well,  colonel,"  said  Mrs.  Rose,  u  I  have  found 
from  experience,  that  there  is  nothing  so  conducive 
to  happiness  in  this  world,  as  being  regularly  and 
constantly  employed,  in  such  a  way  as  to  be  inde 
pendent  yourself,  and  able  and  inclined  to  do  good 
to  others,  who  are  not  able  to  help  themselves. 
Clarence  has  offered  to  have  me  come  and  live  with 
him  in  Boston,  where  he  is  succeeding  wonderfully 
in  his  profession  ;  but  I  have  declined  his  generous 
offer,  for  the  sake  of  what  poor  old  Sandy  would 
have  called  c  the  glorious  privilege  of  being  inde 
pendent.' 

"  Or,"  said  Colonel  Paverley,  "  as  one  of  our 
own  poets  hath  it,  — 

*  Independent  of  all,  save  the  mercy  of  God.' " 


v  * 

'• 


